Head To Toe
by Whoopiedoopie
Summary: Dani Lovato is an international superstar. She struggled with personal issues but she came back bigger and better than ever. Santana Lopez is an aspiring singer living and working in New York City. When Santana agrees to help out with her sister's class trip to a Dani Lovato concert, she meets the superstar and sparks fly. This is a story about how they learn to love each other.
1. Chapter 1: Bubbles

**Author's notes: This is an AU where Dani is a pop star with a similar career to Demi, and Santana is basically the same, except she now has a sister. This will have some triggers for eating disorders in it, and some swearing used in context. Sex will be mentioned but not written explicitly.**

**Please review if you have time! The reviews are quite inspiring to me as a writer :P if you find any typos or inaccuracies in representation of bulimia/bipolar disorder etc., please let me know, as I don't want to cause offence. :) Thank you!**

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Santana**

How the fuck did I get into this situation, I wonder. My sister's class of eight year olds are off to see a special performance by Dani Lovato. She called me up two nights ago. "Santana, I need some help!"

Sighing, I'd promised to come along, recalling how bad I was at looking after children, multiple, but figuring it was worth it for a free ticket to a Dani Lovato show.

Jenni, unfortunately, works at a private school in the area, so all the kids are spoilt little brats.

I watch as a pair of them argue over who has the better ticket, even though both of them are identical.

"I need a soda," I whisper to Jenni.

She laughs. "A sugar hit doesn't make them any less annoying, trust me. I've tried."

"Actually, I need a vodka but I don't think that's a good idea while I'm 'babysitting'."

"No. Well, go get a soda, then. We're heading to the bathrooms and then to our seats," Jenni says, watching the kids closely. "No spiking it, Santana!"

I wave and head into the crowds.

I wait in line for ages as the pudgy businesswoman in front of me orders what sounds like vodkas for the whole family.

"A Coke, please," I say, rustling a couple of dollar bills onto the bench.

"Here you go," the cashier says, ringing it up. "And here's your change, have a nice night." She looks as bored as I am.

The crowds are thickening, so I make my way to the edge of them, deciding that walking around the long way will be quicker than having to elbow people out of my way.

I'm not looking where I'm going, so when I step in a puddle of someone's spilled soda and land on my butt, I just glance around to see that no one has seen me.

Just my luck. "Here," someone says, offering me a hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I say, blushing. The woman who helped me up is gorgeous, and dressed well, unlike me, who's just landed her oldest pair of jeans in a puddle of soda.

Then the situation gets a whole lot worse. The woman pats my shoulder and looks at me for the first time.

It's Dani Lovato.

No way. Please don't let Dani Lovato have just seen me land on my butt.

"No, it's fine, I think I'm gonna go get, um, some-" I'm cut off mid-stammer.

"I've got some jeans you can borrow," she says. "My caravan's over here."

I sigh. There's no escaping. My face flaming, I follow her. She looks both ways before opening the door and inviting me in.

"What size are you?" she asks.

"Two or four," I reply, glancing around. Dani Lovato's caravan seems pretty normal. She has a single bed/couch thing, with some selfies pinned above it, along with the exact model of Sodastream machine I have at home on the table, and some clothes strewn on the floor.

"Sorry it's messy," she says, pulling out a pair of jeans that are much nicer than the ones I just got soaked. "I don't get too many visitors. The jeans are a four; they'll probably be too big, but I've got a belt."

"It's fine," I say. "Thanks."

"You want a soda? You know, seeing as how you spilled most of yours?" She gestures towards my hand, which, although still holding the Coke can, is now sticky with spilled soft drink.

"Um-"

"I'll make you a cranberry one, okay? They're my favourite. There's a sink in there if you want to wash up." Dani points to a curtain at the back of the caravan, and I smile, relaxing a bit.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Oh-" she half smiles. "This is going to be awkward however I say it, but, um, do you need underwear? That was a lot of soda."

I blink. I think Dani Lovato just offered me a pair of her underwear.

"Uh," I say. "Yeah, probably. I'll see. Can I like, bring it back to you though? I don't want to be one of those creepy people who sells things on eBay that celebrities have touched."

She laughs. "I trust you. but if you want to see me again… You can bring it back," she says. I could almost swear she winks as she turns away to open the fridge.

I'm left holding a pair of underwear, which I feel is a remarkably intimate way to meet a celebrity. For some reason I expected it to be sparkling and feathered. I mean, Dani Lovato's butt covering… But it's just plain cotton underwear with a tiny bow at the front and blue hearts printed on it.

I take off my jeans in the bathroom and clean up a bit. Then I put on Dani's clothes. I realise that I'm humming one of her songs, Neon Lights, as I do so, and if it's even possible, my face goes even redder.

"You look good," she says, when I come out. "Here's soda."

"Thanks, I- um, you too." I blink and take the soda, feeling the bubbles in my nose and wishing that I wasn't feeling bubbly everywhere else too.

**Dani**

In the past, I have been forbidden from helping random strangers at concerts. It's led to my being mobbed on more than one occasion. But when I see the gorgeous girl in the moderate heels and light make up, I just have to. I yank on the closest head-covering - a ridiculous straw hat that will probably attract more attention than it deflects, because it's almost dark outside - and step out of my caravan.

She seems flustered, and when she sees my face, she gets even more so. Sometimes I hate inane fans getting starstruck over me, but on her it's endearing.

So I invite her in. I shouldn't do that, either (Matt, my security guard, will have a fit if he finds out, but hey. It'll be worth it, I think).

I'm just fizzing my own soda when she comes out of the bathroom.

My jeans look unbelievably good on her. I suppose I could use the word mouth-watering, but that would just be creepy, since I don't even know her name. I tell her anyway.

"Thanks, I- um, you too," she says, blushing a tiny bit. Or maybe that's my imagination.

"So what's your name?" I ask, sitting on the bed.

"I'm Santana. Santana Lopez. I'm helping my sister with her class of kids. They're on a 'field trip.'" She air-quotes "field trip".

"Oh…" I feel disappointment bubble under my skin. "You're not a fan then?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant." She puts her hands out, waving them wildly, then seems to realise that her gesturing is awkward and slowly sits on them. "I am a fan. I came for the free ticket."

"Right," I say, laughing. "Are you looking forward to it?"

"Does it make me a total fangirl if I tell you the truth and say 'quite a lot'?" she asks, sipping from her soda.

"No...it just makes you very, very cute," I reply, watching her stammer.

**Santana**

The bubbly feeling is getting crazy. I really like Dani, in the few minutes that I've actually talked to her, and I've started to think that maybe the bubbles aren't my being starstruck, but my liking her. Just a little bit.

"I, uh-"

"Anyway," she says, getting up from her bed. "I've got to go do warm ups and things that singers do. So, I'll see you later."

With that, Dani stands up and opens the door, holding it for me. I step out, wishing that I could spend more time with her. What does she mean by "see you later"?

"I wish I could offer you backstage seats but I don't think my manager would be very happy with me inviting a whole class of kids into the wings." Dani smiles. "You can leave your jeans in here and come get them later, if you want."

I'd actually forgotten them, but I didn't want to say anything. "Okay, thanks, I'll just-"

"You forgot them, right?" She shuts the door.

"Yeah," I say. "Sorry. You're just so distracting-" I clap my hand over my mouth. I am making an absolute ass of myself. I have panic sweat under my boobs.

"I'll see you later, Santana." Dani walks off, laughing to herself.

"Bye," I call, waving.

The opening act is due onstage in about ten minutes, so I'm sure the kids will already be in their seats. I make my way up to their row and sit down next to Jenni.

"What took you so long?" Jenni asks, not even looking. She's doing a headcount, I guess, by the way her eyes are bouncing down the row.

"I-" I lower my voice. "I met Dani Lovato."

Jenni finishes her headcount. "What?"

"I slipped over in soda, and she made me this, and I'm wearing her underwear-"

"Breathe, Santana." Jenni laughs at me. "She's nice."

"And hot, and single, and gay," I murmur.

"It's okay, Santana," Jenni says, rubbing my shoulder.

I take a few deep breaths and just as I'm about to explain how I kind of like her, the opening act comes on. It's Fourth Harmony, a girl band from the TV show Dani mentored on.

Then the real show begins. Dani truly is both a good performer and a good singer, but I find myself tuning out of the music and just watching her toss her head. I imagine what it would be like to sing a duet with her. When she speaks, it feels genuine, and when she leaves the stage, the crowd is sad to see her go.

I am too.

I stand up. "Hey, Jenni, are you okay if I go now? I need to...um..." I gesture pathetically.

"Sure, San. Good luck, babes!" she calls, winking at me as I hurry away in the direction of the caravan.

"Santana?" Someone touches my arm.

"Dani!" I turn around.

"Hey..." she says. "Look, I need to get all the make up and everything off, but would you be up for a date?"

My jaw drops open. I've been trying to rustle up the confidence to say those very words as I've been walking.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she says, stepping away. "I assumed that you were..."

"Yes. I'm in," I say, cutting her off.

"Oh, thank god. I thought I'd made such a fool of myself. Hold on, you can wait in my trailer while I have a quick shower?"

"Sure," I agree, following her.

While I can hear the water running, I sit on the couch-bed thing with a glass of cranberry soda. "Help yourself to a soda," she'd said, dashing into the cubicle and flicking it on.

I can't keep thoughts of her naked body out of my head, and nor can I keep thoughts of kissing her out.

The water flicks off again and I take a sip of soda, trying to compose my face.

When she emerges in nothing but a towel, her dark hair rumpled about her face, I catch my breath.

"Sorry! I left my clothes out here." She gets changed in the bathroom cubicle, thank god, so she doesn't witness the colour my face would go watching her dress.

Re-emerging, she asks me, "Where do you wanna go? I'm kinda hungry."

"I have no idea..." I say. "What's your favourite food?"

"Sushi," she says immediately.

"Oh, me too!" We high five, then she google sushi restaurants in the area, and we leave.

My heart is beating a hundred miles a minute when we order, and when she starts quizzing me about my life, I seriously think I might pass out.

"I work at Stardust Diner in New York. We sing and dance for the customers."

"Yeah, it's fun. I love singing. I was in a high school glee club," I admit, laughing.

"I live with my gay friend, Kurt - I call him Lady Hummel - and my close friend Rachel - she dated a prostitute by accident."

"Yeah, I used to have a girlfriend - her name was Brittany. She was great, but there was no real spark, you know? It was all sex and the thrill of "being gay". I'm lesbian; she was bi."

"Most important thing in a partner? Someone who can hold your head over the toilet bowl one day, but another give you the most amazing sex ever."

Dani laughs at this. It's beautiful. "I've been told I'm good at both of those, although admittedly not by the same person."

"There's a technique to head-holding? I always thought it was just kind of...point and shoot."

Dani rolls her eyes. "Well, clearly by your standards you're a terrible partner."

I'm speechless, not because of her words, but the way she says them, like it's funny, like she might just be able to teach me differently.

I wish.

We keep talking and talking and talking. She has an amazing personality and she's so quick. Everytime I think I might have found something she doesn't have a response for, she thinks for a moment, biting her lip, then comes up with something original.

We're sitting watching the sunrise by the time we've both gone quiet.

"I kinda...really like you," I say, shifting closer to her.

"I really like you too," she says, glancing around and then planting the quickest peck on my lips.


	2. Chapter 2: Cuddles

I went home on a buzz, and I wake up on a buzz too. Dani is amazing. We talked until...well, until the sun came up.

Then Dani went home, to her caravan. They were leaving the next day, she said.

As I get dressed, ready for my dance classes, I catch myself in the mirror. I look professional. I wonder if Dani would like this. I grab my phone to text her a photo, probably with a dumb caption, and realise...I flick through my contacts, and then I have to do it again more slowly. I didn't get her number.

I put my phone down and it vibrates.

I answer the call. "Hello, Santana?"

"Hey! It's Dani."

"Oh thank god," I say. "I thought I'd lost your number!"

"How could you have lost it if you never got it?" She's amused.

"Oh...you know what I mean." I swat the air as if to hit her and then realise that she's not there.

"Okay, normally I wouldn't be quite so pushy about things, but since we're leaving tomorrow and all, I would really like to see you again. Are you free today?"

"I've got a dance class at one, until two thirty. After that?"

"Sure." There's a sound of chewing down the line and then she speaks again. "I'll pick you up. NYADA?"

"Yup," I say. "See you then."

"See ya - oh, one more thing. Bring your bikini."

I raise my eyebrows at the mirror. "Okay then. Bye."

Dance class drags on and on. My bikini is burning a hole through my bag, and I can't wait to put it on. I throw myself through the moves over and over again, remembering the exact sequence until I can fly longer, higher, more accurately than anyone else. My classmates "ooh" and "aah" jealously, but all I want is to get out of there. I'm actually nervous, too, scared of what Dani's going to say when she sees me.

I have a shower, put on the swimsuit, cover it with clothes. I have a tote bag slung over my shoulder and my sunglasses tucked up on my head and I know that I look supremely confident. Inside I'm shaking.

Dani waves at me. She's in a red convertible (subtle) and has her hair tied up in a scarf, accompanied by massive sunglasses. I laugh and jog over to her car, throwing my bag in the back.

"Hi there," I say, sliding into the passenger seat. "Sexy outfit."

"Shut up. I'm incognito."

"That's a thing? I thought you were too narcissistic to want to do that."

She slaps my upper arm. "Seriously, shut up. It's going to be bad enough where we're going."

"Where are we going?" I slide my sunglasses down to match Dani.

"Pools. We've got one day together. It's the fastest way to get wet."

I giggle. "You're funny."

"I know. Here we are." Dani pulls up outside a swimming complex.

I get to watch her get changed. Under the pretext of adjusting my bikini strap, I stay while she strips off her dress and bra. She's wearing normal underwear - cotton panties and matching bra, and when she unhooks her bra, her nipples get hard from the sudden cold air.

Imagining how I could do that to her makes me a little bit wet before we even get in the pool.

It's a bit warmer than cold, and we totter in like children. "See, San? I'm very wet…" She dives under and comes up flicking her hair off her face. She's gorgeous.

"I see that…" I follow suit, but my hair is tied up in a ponytail, so I can't achieve the same effortless flick that she did.

"You're gorgeous, you know that?" Dani says this with the air of a scientist studying a little-known creature, but it makes my whole body go fizzy.

"Thank you," I say, at a loss for words. "You're beautiful."

She steps closer to me and puts her arms on my shoulders. I breathe in the scent of chlorine and the faint scent of oranges I catch off her before she kisses me. Her lips taste like chocolate, like she's just eaten some, and when she breaks the kiss, staring into my eyes for a few seconds, I tell her so.

"Yeah...I had a bit before I came… I suppose you could call it courage. I wasn't supposed to though."

"Why not?" I ask, curious.

"Part of my eating plan." And then she draws away, back into the water. "Race you down the slide?"

I understand the conversation is over, and I wonder if I ruined everything by mentioning it. She tastes so wonderful though. I didn't mean to upset anyone.

"Dani Lovato?" Someone yells from the side of the pool.

I glance at Dani immediately. She looks back to me, her eyes blank, and pulls a smile onto her face.

"Yeah, it is," she says, looking around for the source of the call.

I move closer to her for moral support, because even I can see that she's not in the mood to be dealing with random visitors.

"Over here!" There's a flash of movement, an arm waving, and we both look in that direction, my arm brushing hers to remind her that I'm here.

A camera flash goes off and all hell breaks loose.

Dani's smile drops and she looks at me, suddenly tired, suddenly just another girl who wants to go home and watch a movie and go to bed.

A life guard yells across the pool to the source of the camera flash. "Excuse me, but there's no cameras to be used around the pool."

Another life guard approaches the source. "I'm going to have to ask you to turn in your camera so we can erase the relevant pictures."

He nods to Dani, and she manages a half-smile before she gets out, going into the changing rooms, head bowed. I follow, and find her sitting on a bench, towel around her waist.

"Dani?"

"Why can't I just be normal?" she says, looking like she's about to cry.

"Come here," I say, and I sit down and pull her into a hug, cold skin touching. I can feel her nose where it's pressed into my neck, and god forgive me, I'm buzzing just from the touch of her.

After a few minutes of me holding her, a female life guard comes in. "Dani?" she says.

I look up. "What?"

"The manager would like to see you?" she looks a little nervous.

"Okay," I say, lifting Dani to sit up. "We're gonna go talk to the manager about this, alright? You need to wrap a towel around you, okay?" I pick up my one and wrap it around her shoulders, trying to help her shivering.

"Okay," she says blankly.

"Excuse me," I say awkwardly to the life guard. "Would it be possible for us to borrow a towel?"

"Sure." She's sympathetic, smiling at me as I guide Dani out of the changing rooms and into the office.

"Dani Lovato?" The manager is sitting at a desk with a blank pad of paper in front of her.

"This is her," I say. "I'm Santana Lopez, her friend." Because that's what Dani needs right, a friend.

"Alright. Now, we have a strict no camera policy around our pool for this very reason. We don't want people taking pictures of others that they might not want circulated. Unfortunately, the cameraman ran off before our life guards could apprehend him or her." The manager has a formal way of speaking that glazes my brain over. Looking at Dani's blank face, I try to pay attention.

"So what if the pictures were...released? Say, to the public?"

The manager shifts in her seat. "We can't do anything about it, unless we can prove that they were taken here, for example, if there was the pool logo in the background of the image. Failing that, we can politely request that the magazine and supplier of the image retract their claim to it and hope that it goes out of circulation. I'm sorry, girls."

I nod, filing it all away. "I understand."

"Here's my business card if you should need to contact me further," she says, standing and leaving us.

There's a glass jar of biscuits on her desk and I pass one to Dani. "Eat. I think you're in a bit of shock." Numbly, she lifts it to her mouth and takes a bite. It looks like her lips are too big for her face.

The life guard returns with a towel, and I push Dani back to the changing rooms. She sits while I get changed, then I help her put on clothes over her bikini.

"Come on." I drive her back to where we met, her caravan. Inside, I help her remove her clothes, but not her bikini, and push her into the shower, hoping that the warm water will help her.

I make us both sodas and find some clothes for her to wear - trackpants and a comfy-looking top and cotton underwear and bra almost identical to the one from before.

"Okay, Dani, I'm gonna pass you some clothes and a towel. You need to dry off and get dressed and then we can have a soda." I give her instructions, listening carefully for her slipping or anything.

A few minutes later: "Hi."

"Hi, yourself. Feeling better?" I check.

"Yeah. I think the biscuit and shower helped. I was kinda in shock before," she says.

"I noticed. I made you a soda." I point to the one on the table.

"Thanks. Fun date, huh?" she says, sitting down and sipping away.

"Totally. Just what I've always wanted to do." I brush her knee gently, trying to lend my support.

"You've officially been papped," she says, biting her lips.

"Yeah...you think that's gonna turn up in a magazine?"

"Front page stuff," she says. "I'm sorry. I'm a nightmare to date." And then her mouth twists and she starts crying.

I take her soda away and cuddle her, rubbing her back. She recovers quickly, and then I say, "Bed?"

She jumps away from me. "Why?"

"For a movie…" Oh. I realise how it must have sounded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be suggestive. Let's watch a soppy movie and then you can get to sleep, okay?" It's just after four, so I think she needs to get an early night.

"What movie?" she says, shifting a tiny bit closer.

"Your pick." She smiles at me, relaxing again, and grabs her laptop.

"You find one, okay? I'm gonna start dinner."

Dani looks surprised. "It's okay. We can order in."

"I want to. You, just snuggle up, okay?" I motion her off the bed, pull back the covers, and then tuck her in, kissing her forehead.

She giggles. "You're amazing."

"Don't I know it."

Cooking is peaceful. I'm barely two metres from Dani, because the caravan is so tiny, and I rhythmically chop vegetables and bacon into a soup. This is my favourite thing to make, because it's easy. One pot. That's it.

"Music and Lyrics?" Dani asks.

"Sure." I wash my hands and leave the soup to simmer, coming to sit beside her. "How long is it going to take?"

"Ten minutes. I get super-fast internet."

"Great," I say. I check the time - the soup will take about half an hour. Then I squeeze her hand. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just hop into bed, silly," she says.

I do. It's nice, the way her body fits into the curve of mine. The way the rise and fall of her chest matches mine. I hold her, rubbing a thumb over her shoulder, hoping to soothe her a little. After the movie's been running for a while, I get up and put on some toast, then serve her soup and toast.

"You like soup?" I ask.

"I like anything you make me," she giggles, grabbing a cushion to put on her lap.

We eat peacefully, absorbed in the movie, and when we've finished, I whisk the dishes away and come back for snuggles.

As the finishing credits start playing, I glance down to Dani to start dissecting the movie, and she's fast asleep, head on my chest, one leg thrown over mine. I can't go anywhere, so I carefully lift the laptop onto the floor and then snuggle up closer.

It's not long before I'm asleep too.


	3. Chapter 3: Flying

**Santana**

I'm woken by a rapping on the door.

"Dani?" The rapping continues, so I shake her, not sure if I'm even allowed to be here.

"What...?" She blinks awake.

"Door," I whisper.

"Oh." She lifts her watch to her face. "SHIT!"

She scrambles out of bed. "Shit," she repeats, opening the door.

"We're leaving in half an hour, Miss Lovato."

"Shit," she says, sighing.

"I take it I need to leave?" I ask.

"Sorry, Santana! I just fell asleep and then we slept in... Fuck. You should go, I have to pack up for my flight."

I look at her flustered face, creased from lying on the pillow, and say, "Want some help?"

"Don't you have something better to do?" She's clutching a sports bag and stuffing clothes in haphazardly.

"Not at all," I lie. I have a dance class at four tonight; it's not even really a class, I just sit in on a children's class to pick up teaching techniques. There'll be plenty of time for me to get ready once she's left.

"Thank you!" She shakes out an outfit and starts changing right in front of me. I avert my eyes and talk instead of ogling her.

"Where are you going next?"

"Toronto. I'm flying ahead and the buses will meet me there tonight. I get to sleep in a hotel though." She pulls on tight shorts and chucks the sweatpants in her bag.

"Can you grab all the stuff in the bathroom and put it in here?" She hands me a padded toilet bag.

"Everything?"

"Yes! Hurry." She's laughing, picking up random things and throwing them in.

I grab the shampoo and conditioner, the toothbrush and toothpaste, the make up, the pads under the sink and pass it all out to her. I do a quick scan and can't see anything I've missed, but I do hear the knock at the door.

"Miss Lovato? We need you."

"You have to go, Santana!" Dani says. "Here's your bag, there's twenty bucks in there, I called a taxi for you."

I blink. "You don't need to..."

"Shut up and take it, I have to go." She kisses me quickly, catches the back of my head in her hands. "Thank you, Santana."

"Thank you," I say, hugging her and inhaling her orangey scent.

Then she's gone, the caravan door slamming shut. I sit down for a second, recovering.

"I love you," I whisper.

A taxi - I assume it's my taxi - honks. "Coming," I call, getting up and shutting the door behind me. I'm still half-asleep and my brain is slowly catching up to what's happening.

I give my address to the driver in a daze, checking my phone.

No text, no nothing. From Dani, anyway. There's three texts from Rachel asking where I am, all time-stamped at around 11 pm last night and one from Kurt wanting to know what kind of dress I want for my bridesmaids' dress. I absently reply to both of them.

_Rachel, I was staying over with a friend, don't worry about me..._ I backspace.

Santana - _I was at a friend's, coming home now._

Santana - _Anything, Kurt, as long as I don't look like a demented goat._

I consider that for a few moments. Knowing Kurt, he could probably make me look like many worse things than a goat.

Santana - _Scratch that. No marshmallows, no goats, no animals, and most definitely not Rachel._

My phone buzzes back with a text from Rachel. A picture.

Rachel -_ A friend? Dani Lovato?_

The picture is the one from the pool, and next to it, blurry, is one of us kissing.

_Shit_, I text back.

I have the whole taxi ride to get my head together, but when I walk in the door of the loft...

"What is going on!?" Rachel flies at me the second I step through the door, before I can even put down my bag.

"God Rachel! Gimme a minute and I'll explain everything." I go to my room, dump my bag and put on some comfort clothes.

"Tell us every last detail!" Kurt is there now too.

"The concert," I say. "I had to supervise this kid buying a soda, and then she went and spilled her soda on Dani, and then Dani invited us backstage, and then she invited me out for dinner and we went swimming yesterday and got papped and she freaked out and I had to stay with her and, and..." I run out of breath and close my eyes.

Rachel and Kurt look at each other and grin. I frown at them.

"Santana Lopez, in love..." Kurt giggles.

"Are you official yet?" Rachel demands, forever the lesbian matchmaker.

I don't know how to answer that. We've been out twice, but there's been no official "asking out".

"What does the article say?" I say instead.

Rachel and Kurt share a look again.

"Are you sure you want to read it?" Rachel says. "It's not very nice."

I grab it wordlessly.

**Dani**

On the way through the airport, I see the magazine. Or more specifically, I see the title. "Dani Lovato: New Love? See inside for more!"

Without even thinking, I buy it, curious about what they've said about Santana. I hope it's not too mean, because if we're going to date, she'll have to get used to being in the spotlight. And I really hope that she wants to date, because Santana gives me insane butterflies and she knew just how to look after me yesterday, and I just can't stop thinking about her. At all.

I'm rushed through boarding so I don't get mobbed, but on the plane, I happily sign things for the teenagers around me. I chat to them for a while, take some pictures (I'm barely even made up, what with the sleeping in), sign their plane tickets and whatnot, and then, once they've all calmed down, I put in my headphones and read the article.

_Insiders say that this girl has been backstage at one of Dani's recent concerts, and, as you can see, she's definitely made an impression!_ The article has blurry picture of us kissing in the pool and behind that, the clearer one of us standing in our bikinis, taken with the flash. _Her name, according to our exclusive source, is Santana, and Dani may just have found herself a new gold digger. Santana works at the Stardust diner, where she is rumored to be a singing waitress. Dani, we urge you to consider this question: does Santana want you, or does she want her ticket to fame_?

I slam the magazine shut, eyes stinging. Poor Santana. I hope I can talk to her before it gets to her.

"Is it true?" One of the girls behind me leans forward. "Are you dating Santana?"

I pull out my headphones and pinch the bridge of my nose. I can't reveal too much, in case it lands us in more media trouble, but I can say one thing:

"Santana is an amazing person and I would be honored to consider her my girlfriend." I can't help myself. I just blurt it out, desperate to tell someone that Santana's not a gold digger. She's gorgeous and caring and funny and she likes me. I think.

I hope.

**Santana**

I put my head between my legs. I need oxygen. My heart is hammering away from what I just read. No one could honestly believe that, could they? Dani wouldn't...she wouldn't think that I was just some gold digger, would she? Not after yesterday, anyway. Please, god… I need to talk to her.

"Santana? Santana?" Kurt pats my shoulder.

"I'm okay." I lift my head up. "I need to talk to her."

Rachel sits forward. "San, it's fine. It's just a gossip rag."

"It's not fine! That's me they're talking about. I'm not some gold digger. Dani is honestly someone I really like." I run my fingers through my hair.

Kurt makes covert gestures for Rachel to shut the fuck up. For once I agree with him.

"Santana, Dani's probably used to this. She won't think anything of it. Rachel was right, these magazines are mostly gossip-mongering."

"What if it gives her second thoughts?" I say. I cover my face with my hands and lean back.

"Calm down, okay? I'll make us hot chocolate." Rachel gets up and goes to the kitchen.

"I've got to go. My shift starts in fifteen minutes," Kurt says, waving goodbye. "Wish me luck!"

"Bye, Kurt," I say tiredly. "Thanks."

I'm ruminating on this whole escapade. It's a ridiculous fear, I kind of know, but I still...I still can't help but imagine Dani reading the article, a light bulb above her head. I did tell her that I worked at the diner, I even told her what we did, but maybe she just hadn't connected the dots. Maybe I do seem over-enthusiastic-

"Stop." Rachel sits next to me. "Calm down. Dani's flight lands when?"

I realise… "I don't know. Probably around twelve thirty."

"So stop fussing. Just breathe. Drop her a text now if you want. I have a Funny Girl rehearsal at three. If you need distraction, you can come along. Otherwise, let's go for a run."

"Sure," I say. Anything to get this paralysing fear out of my brain.

**Dani**

When we land, the first thing I do is take my phone off airplane mode. There's nothing from Santana, and I worry that maybe she's seen it. Or maybe she just doesn't want to talk to me. Either way, I dial her number.

"Dani?" Her breathless voice fills my head.

"Santana?"

"I'm not a gold digger, I swear!"

"Oh, honeybun," I say, making up an endearment on the spot. I immediately feel sorry for her. "I'm sorry. I was hoping you wouldn't read it before I spoke to you."

"I just-" she chokes up.

"I know you're not a gold digger, Santana. Seriously, if you were, would you have bothered to come and look after me yesterday? Would I still get butterflies every time I think of you?"

Santana takes a long breath. "Thank you, Dani."

"Anytime, San. Are you okay?"

"I'm...feeling better for talking to you. I was really freaked out when I read it." She breathes out and I can almost hear the tension sliding out of her.

"I know. It's scary, right? We'll be more careful next time, okay?" I say.

"I don't mind it so much… I just don't want your opinion of me to be changed by anything they say about me."

"It won't. Nothing the press try to scare-monger up will change how I think of you," I promise.

"Thanks, Dani. Honestly."

"I love you," I say.

The words hang in the air. I can hear the pause in Santana's breathing.

"I love you too," she says.

"Talk to you later, okay?" I hate having to cut her off, but my driver is motioning for us to leave, and there's a huge amount to do before the show tonight.

"Good luck tonight," she whispers.

"Thanks." I end the call and rush over to the driver.

"This way, Miss Lovato." I roll my eyes at the name and follow his lead.

Santana -_ You're amazing._

Dani - _It's true._

I mean the instance when I said "I love you" but she takes it in response to her message.

Santana - _Add modest to that list of qualities I love about you._

Dani - _There's a list?_

Santana - _It's getting to be more of a novel, really._

Dani - _A novel? Funny, cute, caring, talented at singing and good at writing… You're getting hotter by the minute._

Santana - _Who says I'm good at singing or writing? You've never heard me sing._

Dani - _We'll have to remedy that, won't we? ;) x_

I debate the x at the end for a few seconds. What the hell.

Santana - _Just an aside, that text about me being cute literally made me smile._

Dani - _You're so so so cute x_

Santana - _Ugh I did it again… Rachel wants to know what you said._

Dani - _Rachel - the one who dated the prostitute? Tell her...hmm...that I said you were the cutest girl I'd ever liked._

Santana - _You're making me swoon. I might pass out._

Dani -_ Mmm, well I'm here to catch you._

Dani - _Oops, I gotta go! We just arrived. I have to go get goop plastered on me, and check the microphones, and get breathed on by creepy old men at the signing._

Santana - Poor you. Good luck darling x talk tonight after the show?

I close my eyes and smile at the fact that she called me darling.

"Miss Lovato? Miss Lovato, they need you in hair and make up!"


	4. Chapter 4: Crying

**Author's notes: **This chapter has eating disorder triggers in it. Skip to the end for a brief synopsis if you don't want to read.

**Dani**

It's three days since I met Santana. Three. It seems like I've known her forever. Today I'm in Toronto. Last night I played a sold out show. Tonight I'm playing a sold out show again. I don't get a break. Tomorrow I'll be flying from Toronto to Detroit. All I can think about is Santana. It's insane.

I've got a few hours before I have to go to hair and make up. After that, I have a signing, then sound check, then I get to relax and get dressed.

I'm curled up on my bed in my caravan, watching a movie. It's called The Help. It's really nice to lie down, not to have someone yelling at me, not to have someone caking things in my hair or on my face, to be able to wear sweatpants with holes in them without someone yelling at me about it.

I'm texting Santana: tomorrow she's going out for dinner with Rachel, Kurt and Blaine, apparently.

Santana - _This is an excuse for Kurt and Blaine to talk more about their wedding. Honestly, it's going to be bigger and whiter than anything a girl would ever plan._

Dani - _Don't be so sexist. I'm totally not a big white wedding girl._

Santana - _Thank god, me neither! I'm actually totally dreading even the confection that Kurt's going to create for me…_

I grin, imagining Santana being squished into one of Kurt's souffle dresses.

Dani - _Can't you appeal to Blaine?_

Santana - _Blaine's smitten...he'd probably feed me to a pack of ravenous wolves if it would win Kurt's heart._

I roll my eyes. Drama queen.

Dani - _I'm sure he's not quite that mean :P DRAMA QUEEN!_

Santana - _You'd be amazed…_

Dani - _I probably wouldn't. I've been sold out to the press by more friends than I have fingers._

Wow, that just got serious, I think. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

Santana - _I'm sorry, Dani. I'll never do that to you, I promise._

Dani -_ Haha I trust you. What are you doing?_

Santana - _Nothing, actually. Wanna Skype?_

I glance at my movie. I glance at the little picture of Santana in the upper left hand corner of my phone. The movie. Santana.

Dani - _Sure._

We exchange details quickly, then I press the little green telephone.

"Dani!" She waves enthusiastically.

I wave back, smiling. "Santana!"

"You know, if I was an asshole I could totally tweet your Skype right now."

"Yeah but you're not an asshole," I say, giving her the finger.

"No, but, how about you do something for me? Just to make sure I don't?" She winks at me. I know she's joking.

"Well, Miss Lopez… What would that be?" She leans forward… I'm curious about this.

"Truth or dare?" she asks, laughing.

"Are you asking me if I want to play or asking which one I want?"

"Which one?"

"Truth," I say.

"Hmm… What's the most scary thing that's ever happened to you?" Santana sips from a coffee cup.

I look down. Santana has me all figured out. "Do you want the honest truth?"

Even though the picture is all pixelated, I can feel Santana's eyes staring into mine.

"You can tell me anything."

That's all the invitation I need. I desperately need to explain this to Santana before we go any further but it's kind of a hard thing to say - how do you do it?

You look lovely today, and I just thought you should know that I used to puke my own guts up.

I love you, but I have a deep, dark, secret.

It's not really a secret, though. The media had a field day and a half when I went to rehab for bulimia.

"Dani? It's okay. Forget I asked," she sounds concerned.

"You know that I had bulimia?" I say, breathing shallowly. I am terrified that she's going to judge me. That if I tell her this, it's not going to be me anymore. I'm going to be some insane person.

"Yeah…" she says. She sounds nervous too.

"The scariest thing was when I realised...I realised…" I pause, taking a breath. "I was...making myself throw up one day, and I realised that I wasn't controlling it anymore. It wasn't just after I ate loads, just to 'make myself feel better', I was actually doing it every time I ate, pretty much. And I was crying, and my throat was stinging, and my mouth tasted disgusting, and I just - I needed help."

"Dani…" Santana reaches out and hovers a hand up in front of the camera. I think she's trying to block me out.

"I'm sorry, I'm disgusting…" I start crying now too, my fingers damp where I'm covering my face, an instinctive reaction.

"Oh, honeybun… It's okay. Here, hold my hand." Then I realised what she was trying to do. Slowly I held up my hand until I could see that they were in around the same place and imagined her palm pressing into mine. "Seriously, it's okay… I'm not gonna pretend that I understand why you'd do that, but I'm not judging you at all. It's okay. You can tell me more if you want." Santana sounds sincere, and worried, and everything that no one has ever been before, and it just makes me cry more.

"Hey, seriously, I love you, Dani. You're beautiful. You're funny, you're an amazing artist." Santana keeps up a string of reassurances as I gather myself again.

"So I went to rehab...I thought it was all over. My girlfriend, when she found out...she upped and left and told the press all these lies. And suddenly everyone knew. And on top of all that, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Someone leaked that-" I have to stop, have to get myself under control. I'm unrealistically scared that this could all happen again.

"Oh, Dani…" Santana rubs her hairline. "You don't need to tell me, you know. If it makes you this upset, it's okay. I'm not judging you."

"I think I have to tell you," I say. "Anyway, I'm recovering now… I have to take mood stabilizers and I have to be really careful about drinking, and I have an eating plan and everything."

Santana nods. "Is there anything I can do...for you? To help?"

I shrug. "Not really. If you're with me, just, make sure I do that all. Don't get drunk, don't binge, take my meds." I'm not crying anymore. Santana reacted remarkably well. She knew what to say, just like she knew what to do the other night.

"Okay, honeybun." She still hasn't moved her hand.

"So...truth or dare?" I ask, smiling a bit.

She laughs. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you." I mean it. I'm so grateful that she's still here, that she hasn't run away, that she hasn't said something that cut me like a knife.

"Truth," she says.

"Rock bottom?" I ask.

"Oh, nasty one," she says. "Right after I broke up with Brittany. I walked out of that room, I sang her a song to break up, and I walked out and never looked back. If I'd looked back I just would have crumbled… I came home and I couldn't do anything for a couple of days. Rachel sorted me out."

"I'm sorry, San." It kinda stings that she obviously had feelings for this ex, but she is here, in front of me, so…

"It's okay. I'm over it." She waves a hand. "When do you have to go for hair and make up?"

"Um-" I check the time. "Now-ish. Sorry."

"It's okay. I thought so," she laughs.

"Bye, Santana," I say.

"Bye, Dani. I love you." Then she hangs up before I have the chance to say anything else.

Dani - _I love you too!_

Santana - _Haha, well done. I wondered what you were gonna do._

Dani - _Hey, seriously, thanks for before. You said all the right things._

Santana - _It's okay, babycakes. One of my many talents._

Dani - _Many, huh?_

Santana - _You'll see next time I'm with you._

Dani - _Speaking of, when are you free for three days?_

Santana - _You wanna see, huh? ;) Um, I'm free Monday-Wednesday, if I get Kurt to cover a shift at the diner, and if I can be back Wednesday before 3pm._

Dani - _That can be arranged._

Santana - _See you then?_

Dani - _Not if I see you first._

**Synopsis: **Dani and Santana Skype, play truth or dare, and Dani admits to Santana that the scariest thing that's ever happened to her was figuring out that she needed help with her bulimia. Santana admits that she lowest moment was after breaking up with Brittany. They then text and tell each other that they love each other.


	5. Chapter 5: Dining

**Dani**

"Be still, my heart, cos it's freaking out…"

The lights are blinding me. The back up music in my earpiece is giving me a headache. I can distinctly hear when I go slightly breathy. My make up is making my face heat up under the lights and the tight costume I'm wearing is cutting into me in several unpleasant places. I really just want to lie down and pass out.

Instead, when I go underneath the stage to change costumes, I demand painkillers, and gulp back a glass of water. That makes me feel slightly better, and at this point I couldn't care less whether the room-temperature water tightens up my vocal cords. I catch a glance from the head of my security detail, Misha. She nods to me, seemingly sympathetic.

"Dani! Dani, get back over here!" I'm back on the platform, rising up again.

The music is slower this time. I breathe in and out, closing my eyes. "This is a story that I have never told..."

**Santana**

"And then, he said 'Wait, this isn't your brother?'" Kurt giggles, Blaine smiles in a way that indicates he's as bored as I am and Rachel laughs genuinely.

"Here's one for you," I say. "Kurt shut up for five seconds about this wedding."

Rachel kicks me. Blaine laughs. "You know, Santana, just because we want you to wear a marshmallow dress doesn't mean that you have to begrudge us this whole affair," Kurt says with an air of superiority.

Blaine chimes in. "Actually, I would be much happier with a little affair, some close friends, that sort of thing, but we've decided that it's much more important to openly support gay marriage."

"Why? You don't have to...martyr yourselves for the cause, guys," I say.

"Well, since we made such a big production of the proposal, I thought that we should surely make an even bigger statement for the wedding," Kurt declares.

Blaine rolls his eyes in my direction. We all know Kurt would never be happy unless he had to plan this whole wedding, because if he didn't, he wouldn't have an excuse to think and talk about Blaine every minute of every day.

"Now, guys, hurry up and eat so we can go pick up these flowers!" Kurt gestures dramatically with his chopsticks.

**Dani**

There's only one more song to go but I feel nauseated. I run to the bathroom but the feeling doesn't change.

"Dani, fuck's sake, GET OUT HERE!" My manager yells for me to get back to my spot.

I blink back tears and get out there. There's no choreography for this one, thank god. I think all the jumping around in Heart Attack was what made me feel so sick.

But first I have to give my speech. "Hey guys, now I'm so happy that you're all here tonight… This means so much to me! This is, what, the fifth show I've played…" The whole speech is written to sound sincere and off-the-top of my head, but never once do I mention how I'm really feeling.

How I miss being able to relax, how I feel kind of light-headed, how I think that when I get off stage I'm going to toss some serious cookies, how I miss Santana so freaking much.

I'm speaking on auto pilot, knowing the variations that I have to say for this particular show.

I tell them about my "struggles" with bulimia and how I sang this when my throat was raw. They wouldn't understand. It's been toned-down, made PG for the show. Not a single one of these people would understand how it felt to wake up at two am, not knowing what time it was, feeling the need to throw up because you hadn't purged at dinner; your family had been there and they could never know. Not one of them could understand how it felt to know the whole world had its eyes on you, when you were falling apart, cracking into pieces.

I realise that I'm crying, but that doesn't matter because I'm supposed to, if I can. It makes everyone sympathetic.

I dash the tears away and stand, cuing the background music.

"Skies are crying…"

**Santana**

I'm so bored. Kurt has four different samples of flowers and he can't decide which would go better with my dress, which is currently in pride of place. hung up on the fireplace.

My dress is the same as all the other bridesmaids' (I've already tried posing the question of "Hey Kurt, if there's no brides, do you really need the _bridesmaids_?" I got slapped in the ear for my troubles). It's a peachy orange colour with a hemline that falls to just above my knee and a high neckline.

It makes me look like a phallic confection.

"I'm going to bed," I announce. No one takes note.

Twenty minutes later, my phone buzzes.

"Nnnngrh…" I roll over and grab it, squinting at the light.

Dani -_ Hey San, I just wanted to say I can't wait to see you tomorrow! I miss you :) love you x_

I squint some more and reread it. She's never sent me a text like that before. It sounds about as insincere as the expression printed inside a birthday card by a massive corporation.

Santana - _You okay?_

Dani - _Yeah, totally fine. I'm looking forward to tomorrow!_

Santana - _What's wrong?_

Dani - _Nothing._

I blink awake, flicking on the light. Guess I'd better stay awake. There's nothing specific in her texts, I just feel like she's not quite right.

Santana - _Okay, hun. How was the show?_

Dani - _Fine._

Santana - _Please, what's wrong? You can tell me x_

Dani - _I just had a really bad show, that's all. I'm okay now._

Santana - _Wanna talk about it?_

Dani - _It's fine. I'm actually really keen to get some sleep, I'm just totally stuffed... I nearly passed out on the way to my bed._

What happened? She seemed fine when I saw her after the show the other night. I guess this isn't normal.

Santana - _Oh, poor baby. That's okay, hope you sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow and give you lots of TLC._

Dani - _Night, San. Thank you :) x_

**Dani**

I switch off my phone, rolling over to go to sleep. I feel better now, like talking to Santana has taken the edge off my confusion. I need to sleep now, need to recover from that whole episode.

So far I've been a pretty shitty girlfriend. Santana has looked after me, and gotten papped, and had to watch me cry my eyes out.

Wait. Girlfriend? We haven't even gotten to that stage yet. I want her to be, though. She's funny, and she's gorgeous, and she doesn't hate me. She didn't mind what I told her, and tonight she calmed me down.

I wonder if Santana ever loses it. Just… feels like she's going insane. Needs someone to hold her together. I'd like to do that for her. I'd like to look after her.

Tomorrow I'm gonna do something really special for her, so I can show her that I'm not a total nutjob. I'll...I don't know. Something cute. I'll think of it tomorrow morning.


	6. Chapter 6: Reuniting

**Santana**

This morning I woke up and I forgot about Dani for a moment. Then I remembered - it was like that feeling when you think there's no more stairs, but you step down and it turns out there is. I have a superstar almost-girlfriend, and she's flying me across the country today.

The flight's boring. Like super boring. I'm on edge, waiting to see Dani. I stare out the window at the vista below me, but none of it really penetrates.

"Hey, you're Dani Lovato's girlfriend, right?" Damn teenagers and their weird addictions to celebrities. It was one piece, in one magazine, one time.

"No, sorry," I say, smiling brilliantly.

"Oh. It's just - you look like the girl from the magazine."

Fucking teenagers. "I am. Dani Lovato just isn't my girlfriend. Yet," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Can I get your autograph?"

I grit my teeth. She's painfully annoying, but I've seen the way that Dani deals with the fans. Attentive, patient and ever-caring.

"Sure." I sign the dumb kid's plane ticket, then settle back in my seat. We should be landing soon - it's only a half hour flight, so I close my eyes and try to catch up on the sleep I lost worrying last night.

**Dani**

I have a giant teddy bear tucked under my arm. People are giving me weird looks, although with the ponytail and cap hiding my face, no one has yelled "Dani Lovato!" yet.

In the other hand I have an itinerary for our three days together. Unfortunately, she will have to spend today tagging along with me, but tonight I plan to take her out for dinner and then sit under the stars. I booked a hotel room, so she wasn't constantly overwhelmed by the security and whatnot...and the hotel bed is big enough for sex, unlike my caravan. Not that that was a motivation at all.

I'm watching the steady stream of people out of arrivals, and finally, I spot her. "Santana!" I wave.

"Dani!" she yells back, running over.

**Santana**

I scan her quickly, for any sign of the night she had last night - did she manage to sleep?

For all intents and purposes, she looks fine. Her make up hides any tiredness in her face and her manner is fine as she throws her arm around me, squishing the giant teddy bear in between us.

"Why is there a giant teddy bear between us?" It reminds me of Celibacy Club and that dumb exercise we used to do.

"I don't know...to say thank you?"

"For what?" I'm surprised. I haven't done anything worthy of this much fuss.

"For being an amazing friend," she says.

The words sting me, even though Dani's smiling at me, drinking me in. Is that all I am? Her friend? I plaster a smile on and say, "You're awesome. What are we doing?"

Does she just fly her _friends_ across the country to have sleepovers? Probably, actually. Her best friend is, according to various media sources, Serena Gomez, and I'd bet _they_ take random trips across the country to see each other.

"Today you have to tag along with me. You can get your make up and stuff done while I'm getting mine done, if you want." She winces. "I'm sorry. Boring date."

I chuckle. "What is this, take your girlfriend to work day?"

"Only if you'll be my girlfriend."

_Damn_. That was smooth. My jealous thoughts disappear. "That was pretty smooth," I tell her.

She hits me. "Yes or no?"

"Of course, you idiot!" I grin widely and kiss her, in full view of everyone. I see a camera flash and pray to god that no one has recognised us.

"Come on!"

**Dani**

The whole ride to the hotel I'm silent, waiting for her to say something. My boobs are starting to sweat with panic. Was she just fucking with me?

Then her hand creeps across the middle of the car and her fingers lace in between mine.

"Are you okay?" I ask, trying to focus on the road.

"Yeah… I'm just surprised."

Despite my efforts to watch the road, I glance at her. "Why would you be surprised?"

"Just… What you said, about me being a great friend. And then you asked me to be your girlfriend."

"The best relationships are built on friendships," I explain. "You were so genuine, about everything… You didn't abandon me," I say, blinking away the tears that are threatening. Santana doesn't really need to see me cry again.

She lifts my hand to her mouth and kisses it. "You're a pretty good friend, yourself," she says quietly.

I smile, flicking on the indicator to park.

"Where are going?"

"I got a hotel. Bigger bed," I say.

She giggles. "You have designs on getting me in it?"

"You have to sleep somewhere," I point out, mentally slapping myself the second the words are out - flirty, Dani, at least try to be flirty.

"That was so not what I meant," she says.

"I know. Sorry," I laugh, getting out and picking up Santana's bag.

"I can carry it myself," she says.

"That wouldn't be very chivalrous of me, would it? Plus, I know where our room is and you don't."

"Would it kill you to tell me?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," I say.

"Dani, that has got to be one of the worst pick up lines _ever_." She's waiting for me to lead the way.

"If I've already got you, is it still a pick up line?"

"Is that really the most important thing here?"

"Absolutely," I say. I can almost feel her rolling her eyes. "Race you!"

I start jogging, then halt, sweating from five steps. "Fucking hell, Santana, what did you pack? Rocks and lead?"

"Chains and whips," she says sweetly.

"I sincerely hope you're joking."

"I'm joking on only one count. You will find out which one tonight," she says, deadpan.

"You're one scary girlfriend," I say, swiping the door card.

She runs inside, jumping on the bed. "You weren't kidding! This is fucking huge!"

"Tell me about it." I put her bags in the middle of the lounge.

"I am!"

I giggle and do a flying leap onto the bed next to her.

"So how does it feel to be the girlfriend of Dani Lovato?" I ask.

"I don't know… I just know how it feels to be_ Dani's_ girlfriend, which is pretty damn awesome." Santana pulls me into a hug, which turns into me being snuggled on her chest, which turns into her cuddling me against her.

"I would really love to stay with you for the rest of the day, but it's about time for me to report. You wanna come?" I say, sitting up. I really do wish I could stay there, safe and loved by Santana, but I have a job. A rather demanding one, actually.

"Can I get a tiger face at hair and make up or do I have to pay extra?"

"Come on, idiot." I hit her as we make our way back down to the car.

Santana

Dani drives us to the concert venue. Behind it is parked the multitude of caravans and other vehicles that make up her entourage.

"How does it feel to know that all these people are here for you?" I ask her, giggling at her parallel parking skills.

"You know the story about the Greek god who loved himself so much that he saw his reflection and fell in love? Narcissus, or something? Yeah, like that."

First we sit in the make up caravan. One of the assistants who's doing her internship on tour (a pretty amazing gig if you ask me) does my make up, paying no attention when I say that my favourite way of doing it is with a smoky eye and nude lip.

The end result is pretty good. She slathers on a red lip and gives me winged eyeliner with a faint gold highlight. I feel slightly ashamed that I've been doing it wrong this whole time, and I'm dying to know what she used, but when the assistant wraps up the stuff she used and hands it to me, I hand them back. "I can't take these!"

"You have to...We're only supposed to use make up on one person. If I use that on Dani my internship's down the drain. Plus, it looks great."

"You really think that mascara is going to be the worst thing I share with Dani?" I laugh, trying to see if I get her to loosen up. I'm also testing the waters to see if she knows that we're dating yet.

She laughs back. "True. But you still have to take the make up."

So she does know.

"If you don't take it, it gets chucked away."

I roll my eyes and accept it. "Thanks. Any ideas on hair to go with this? Or jewellery?"

She glances at Dani, who's still back on getting bronzer splashed across her cheeks.

"Gold jewellery. It'll bring out the highlights. Otherwise, black and red. If you sit back down, I'll do your hair."

I oblige. "What's your name?" I ask.

"Serafina. Everyone calls me Sarah."

"That's an awesome name!" I glance at her. "Your parents must be pretty cool."

"Not really. I got kicked out of the house when I was sixteen. My parents are kinda hippy. They were totally cool with me smoking weed - I did that once - it's disgusting. Kissing a girl? Out on my ear."

"Wow, that sucks. I'm sorry. I'm Santana. My parents are cool with me being gay. My Grandma, not so much."

She's teasing my hair up around my ears. "Good to know." Our eyes connect in the mirror. I must look scared about what she's doing: "Don't worry, I'm gonna smooth all this down in a minute."

"I wasn't worrying."

She works in silence for a few seconds. "You're gorgeous, you know. Dani's lucky to have you."

I can't work out what to say to this. Telling her she's pretty too would probably constitute a misuse of the whole "girlfriends" agreement.

In the end I settle on, "Thanks," and I watch my hair take shape. Serafina's face is flushed, her hands a little shaky as she brushes my hair back with more gentleness than absolutely necessary. Does she...have a crush on me?

Finally, my hair is rippled into an Audrey Hepburn-worthy bob. I look...stunning. Elegant. Chic. Except for the casual jeans-and-Converse look.

"Have you ever considered modelling?" Serafina whisks away the cloth that was protecting my shoulders.

"Not until now," I reply.

"Gorgeous," she breathes. "You need to start modelling. It pays pretty well and I know people who would kill to have you on their books." Serafina runs her fingers over my hair one last time.

Suddenly Dani appears at my other shoulder. "Okay, time to go!"

I stand up. If I'm gorgeous, I don't even have a word for Dani. Her hair's a dark brown wave with a simple plaited headband around the crown of her head. Her make up is heavier than I've seen it off stage - a coral lip, gentle blusher that accentuates her cheekbones and a hint of a smoky eye - but still light enough that she looks like a real person...just not one that would ever cry about getting papped, or force herself to puke.

"You're-" I don't even get to finish my sentence before she pulls me out of the hair and make up caravan and towards what I assume is the costume department.

"Come on! We don't have all day - well, you might, but I have places to be." She sounds pissed off, irritated, whatever you want to call it.

"Dani?" I say, entirely sure what happened.

"What?" Her tone is one level down from cobra snake on the venom scale.

"Are you...jealous?" I go to say "okay?" but then I put together her actions of the last minute. I'm just hoping that I haven't royally screwed up in some other way that I'm not even aware of.

"Not at all," she declares, too fast for her to be telling the truth.

"Not of Serafina? She's very pretty, and she did an amazing job-"

Dani spins around.

"Shut up. Please." She blinks twice, eyes looking a little shiny, like she's contemplating crying. Damn. I'm such an idiot. I was only teasing her but clearly I went a little overboard.

"Dani?" I sound more timid this time.

She doesn't even respond, clopping off in her two inch heels. "I'm sorry," I say. "I was just teasing you. You're my only shorty."

I hope the song reference will get her, but it doesn't. "Yeah, well, _don't_."

I sigh quietly. She's probably tired and maybe, she needs space. I'm not going to make a big thing of it.

In costumes, Dani's dressed casually for the signing - above the knee white skirt and a peasant-style-type red shirt - and I'm also dressed in a similar, darker style, again by one of the interns. How did these kids land these gigs? I would have killed for a job like this in high school. Probably bloody rich parents.

When she slips behind the racks of clothes without an assistant, I follow her. She's sitting on a padded stool, head in her hands. I come up behind her and lay my hands on her shoulders, squeezing them.

"You okay?" I ask, afraid of the answer.

"Yeah - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap, I'm just stressed out." It sounds like there's more she wants to say but doesn't.

I keep on massaging her shoulders - they're all tense - and say, "It's okay. Just tell me if you need me to be extra-careful for you, okay?" I feel like I have to tread carefully, like my words will incite either a crying fit or a rage.

As it turns out, neither happens. She just slumps lower on her stool and nods, eyes closed.

"You're gonna be fantastic, okay? I'll be right there cheering you on." Something else occurs to me. "Have you had your meds today?" The words feel like something a high school bully would say, but she told me to make sure she did.

"Yeah. I take two doses, one in the morning and one in the evening, but they're not perfect. Sometimes I still have random mood swings." She looks up, smiling a tiny bit. "Thanks for remembering, Santana."

"I just want you to be okay," I say, kissing her forehead.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you too."


	7. Chapter 7: Songstress

**Dani**

I do what I'm supposed to do and I kind of enjoy it, today.

Some of the people are creepy and weird, like the old woman who tells me that she played _Heart Attack_ on repeat while she was in hospital recovering from her heart attack. Outwardly I smile and laugh, inwardly I wince.

Some make me laugh - the teenage boys who always loiter at the back of a group of their girl friends, then slide something onto the desk to be signed, and tell me shyly that, secretly - "Don't say this in an interview!" - their favourite song is Something That We're Not or something that they would get equally as teased for. I give these ones the party line - "That was one of my favourites too!" - and then tell them to make sure to set their Spotify to "private session".

Some people make me cry - the girl who looks perfectly average: average weight, not too tall, not too short, skin that doesn't scream "FAKE TAN", but starts tearing up when she talks, telling me that _Skyscraper_, or _Warrior_ helped her to stop self-harming. I can't count how many girls, and boys too, have told me that, and for every single one I have words of reassurance. I also offer to draw a tattoo like my own on the upper side of their wrists, to remind them how strong they are. Some accept, some don't, but I hope and pray that all of them end up okay.

I ask security to remove some people - the inebriated twenty-somethings with wrinkly boobs who ask for breast or buttock signings, and the more conservative people, armed with Bibles or tales of children who had to grow up in gay homes, who come to demonise me for my sexual choices. These ones make me uncomfortable.

Then there are the tired mothers and fathers with two or three children, getting pulled around - "Daddy! I'm hungry!" The children I chat to openly, and the parents I offer coffee or tea, getting my two assistants to make them while I distract the children for a while.

There's a group of teenagers passing through now, and I patiently sign each and every one of their items - CDs, posters, etc. - while they ask me invasive questions about my bipolar disorder. I do my best to give them generic, healthy advice, trying not to show how offended I am that they think they just ask me if I'm a nutjob. I notice the last girl in their group looking awkward. I wait for the dickwads to walk a few yards away before I ask her if she's okay. She glances up at her friends, who are engrossed with a hacky sack.

Then she pushes a folded letter onto the desk. I open it up. It only has two lines.

_I think I have depression. Can I talk to you?_

I look up again. I'm not who she needs to be talking to, but I feel for her. "Go make an excuse to your friends, then come back here, okay?"

I don't even look up at the next person in line before I reach my hand out to sign something. Nothing. I glance up, to see a low cut neckline and a hand pressing a breast forward. "Security!"

"Dani...not even for me?"

It's Santana. "God, you scared me. I thought that was a remarkably un-plastic-surgeried boob for me to be signing."

"You get a lot of water-tits?"

"_Wrinkly_ water tits," I correct. "Hey, San, can you do me a favour?"

"I think so, unless it involves touching said wrinkly tits." She giggles. "That was a bit loud, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Nothing like that," I say. "Just that girl, over there, she wanted to talk to me about depression. I've got to finish up this signing, so can you talk to her? Just...sort her out, see if you can get her to go to a professional."

Santana's eyebrows arch. They form a cute little crease in the middle. "This has honestly been the weirdest relationship of my life. I hope you know that. And yes, I will talk to Lady Gaga for you."

I giggle. The girl's dress was a rather meaty shade of red. "Be_ nice!_" I instruct her.

"I'm just thinking of ways to get her to loosen up!" Santana laughs and waves goodbye to me.

I shake my head and get onto the next person, who has two crying toddlers. "Do you like tea or coffee?" I ask the father.

**Santana**

I watch Dani for a while before I get in line for the signing. She's a truly likeable character; it's very obvious how much she cares about her fans, especially the teenagers. She cares about everyone, in fact, and she even keeps her cool with the group of dickheads in front of me.

After our exchange, I approach Lady Gaga. I guess that's not really fair. Her dress, on closer inspection, has a cream paisley pattern, and her face isn't nearly as death-bed as Lady Gaga's.

"Excuse me?" I say to her.

"Hi," she says warily, looking around. It's okay, I think. She's still only five metres away from Dani, even though the security guard - who I've been told is Matt - is in between them most of the time.

"I'm Santana," I say, sitting down opposite her. There's no flash of recognition, no "you're the girl from the magazine!" so I say, "I'm Dani's girlfriend."

"Oh! I'm Helena. I'm Dani's fan," she admits slightly sheepishly.

"I kinda guessed. Dani said that I should come talk to you while she was busy signing things. Everything okay?"

She looks down. "Well, I wanted to talk to her about something she's probably going to relate to more than you are…" She flinches. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude. I wanted to ask her about depression."

I smile, trying to put her at ease. "Well, maybe you can tell me? I've been told I'm a pretty good listener."

She looks around, I guess for privacy, and then says, "Well, I think I'm depressed… But my mom would never listen to me. She says that people like that are just looking for attention. She even says that Dani's just another star trying to get ahead by 'playing the sympathy card'. I don't think that's true. One of my friends committed suicide… Why would they be looking for attention if they ended up dead?" She takes a deep breath after this confession.

I sigh. One of those parents. What to say? "I get where your mom is coming from - some people like to show off and say they've done things that they haven't, maybe because they need attention for other things, or maybe because they like the thrill." The girl's face closes up. She thinks I'm going to be another adult just like her mom. "But some people really are depressed, or bipolar, or something else. Dani takes medication for it, so she doesn't have to feel so…" How to put this? "Moody. I don't think she'd do that just for the fun of it, do you?"

Helena looks a little less uncomfortable. "I guess not…"

I mentally bite my lip. What else can I say? "Have you thought about getting some help? Maybe taking some medication or getting some counselling?"

Helena nods. "I thought about it, but I can't."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Well, I go to a really small private school, and all of the teachers are kind of snobby about disabilities and things, so I can't ask any of them for help. And my mom won't listen. She'll probably ground me if I mention it. My friends' moms are all the same - like the teachers at school. I don't see my aunts and uncles at all."

I sigh again. This kid has been failed by her mom in particular, but she needs the kind of support that neither Dani or I can give her. "Do you have privacy in your house? Can you go into a bedroom and talk on the phone privately, or go somewhere else and use a cellphone?"

She thinks. "Yeah, I probably could."

I get my phone out of my bag and start googling around for a helpline number. "I'm just trying to find a number you can call. Why do you think you're depressed?" A risky question, but one that I probably need to ascertain.

Helena's eyebrows draw together. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Of course I believe you. I'm trying to help you out, Helena." I lean forward attentively.

She sits back down. "Okay. Well, before my exams last year, I was really tired all the time. At school, my friends would all be laughing about something and I wouldn't find it funny. And when I got home, I would just go to bed and sleep or sometimes cry. The thing is, I couldn't be bothered studying. I think I bombed my exams. My mom is going to be so mad. And I googled it, looking for some excuse, but..."

Oh wow. "Helena, that's going to work out okay, alright? You can resit them, I'm sure. Maybe if you get a professional involved… Oh, hey, Dani." Dani must be having a quick break, because she sits down with us and passes both of us a bottle of water. She's clutching a cup of coffee.

"Hey, Santana, and…?"

"Helena," she fills in.

"Helena. Okay, what's going on?"

I paraphrase it for her, looking to Helena to make sure I'm getting it right. Helena nods at everything I say.

"Do you have any after school activities?" Dani asks her.

"Just soccer."

"Which day is that?"

"Mondays and Wednesdays."

Dani looks thoughtful. "So if you were to say that you were going to a friend's place, and you really went to a doctor, would your mom know?"

"She'd have to pay for it, so yeah." Helena is confused about where this is going.

"Where do you live?" Dani blinks. "I don't mean to sound weird or anything. I was thinking maybe I could make an appointment with a psychiatrist in your area and you could go and see them one day after school."

Helena is almost open-mouthed, she's so surprised. "I guess...I can't pay for it though, so Mom would still find out."

"Don't worry about that. Let's say it's on the house." I smile behind my hand. Dani is honestly a lovely person.

"I live in Lakeshore," Helena says.

"Okay." Dani looks up at her manager. "Now, I have to get back to my signing, but if you give me your number I'll give you a call when I've sorted it out!" Dani smiles, hugs Helena and heads over to the signing table.

"Is that okay?" Helena asks, looking at me.

"Dani will do what she thinks is right. She really is a good person," I say, looking over at my girlfriend. "You wanna put you number in here?" I hand her my phone so she can put in her details.

"Thanks so much, Santana," Helena says as she gets up.

"You're totally welcome," I reply, watching her rejoin her friends.

"Nah, just a bathroom break," she laughs, flicking me a glance as she makes her excuses.

**Dani**

Tonight, I'm really getting into the vibe of the performance too. I've got my costume on - after last night I got them to adjust it so it wasn't so tight, and Santana's sitting in the wings, getting to watch from backstage. Right now, I'm heading out to do a last-minute mic check, and she's chatting to my security guard, Matt.

I wave my right hand to cue the music, and I carefully adjust the volume of my earbuds.

"Our love runs deep like a Chevy," I sing. The track pauses.

There's a brief shout of "louder" from one of the technicians seated around the theater to check, and we run through the process again.

Then there's a varied shout of "perfect" so I go backstage to eat a little something before the show. The opening act, Fourth Harmony, is testing out their mics now. That'll be more complicated.

"Hey, honeybun," I say, sitting down opposite Santana.

"Hi."

"Having fun?"

She yawns widely. "Your guard is funny."

"Matt? Yeah, he's the best."

"Hey, where's your dressing room?" Santana says nonchalantly, looking around like the door might just pop out of nowhere.

"I'll show you, why?" I slide my fingers in between hers as I lead the way.

"I'm really tired; I might just have a quick nap before the show," she says, yawning again.

"What's up?" I ask, squeezing her hand.

"Just tired, I think. Probably my hormones or something." She looks up - my dressing room is nice. It has a bed that she can sleep on.

"Really? What's wrong?"

She looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Those of us who are actually female-" she glances at my genital area cheekily "-get periods, and subsequently, PMS."

"Oh. PMS?" I check.

She rolls her eyes. "Combined with the fact that I was worrying about you for a lot of last night, yes."

"I'm sorry," I say. "Here, I'll tuck you in."

She doesn't even have a sarcastic response this time, she just lies down on the bed. I watch her eyes glazing over.

"DANI!" There's a squeak in my earpiece. They probably want to run marks, or warm up, or something. It can wait.

I pull the sheet over her body, and smooth her hair out of her face. "You okay?"

"Mmm..." she says. I kiss her forehead and run a glass of water for her.

"I'll come get you before it starts, honeybun."

"Mmm…" She already looks half asleep.

The voice in my ear is getting more demanding, so I dim the lights and run to the vocals booth.

"Finally," my manager huffs. "Okay, you've got about twenty minutes to run through warm ups and do whatever else you need to."

I nod, waving her away to annoy Fourth Harmony or someone else.

Warm ups take me about fifteen minutes. I can hear the low chatter of the audience when I leave the booth, heading in the direction of the bathrooms.

I run into Fourth Harmony on the way. "Good luck, girls!"

They high five me and keep walking.

"San?" I ask, slipping into my dressing room quietly. She doesn't move. She's still fast asleep. I check on her. She has tears sliding down her face, although she doesn't seem to be aware of it. I brush them away gently with my thumb, then kiss her forehead. She's got a slight temperature.

I decide to leave her be. There'll always be other shows that she can watch. I use the bathroom in my dressing room as quietly as I can, hoping the running water won't wake her.

Then I shake my head, getting into the performance headspace, and head out to the wings.

"You've got two more songs, then it's your turn." The assistant is chirpy, waving people around to sort out lights and places and everything that goes along with stage performances.

I nod, thanking her, and settle to wait my turn.

**Santana**

I honestly feel so zombie-ish when Dani tucks me in, I hardly even know what's happening. I'm bone-tired from my patchy sleep last night, and the fact that I only want to curl up in bed and sleep a couple days before I get my period doesn't help either.

I know that I say something sharp to her, and later on, I know that she comes in and uses the bathroom, but I fall deeply asleep after that.

When I wake, I have no idea what time is it. I check my phone - 9:15 pm - and get up. I guess I missed most of the show then. I follow the screaming and singing out to the wings of the stage.

"Hey, Matt," I say, hopping up on a big prop box. He's standing next to it, watching the show.

"Hi, Santana. Where've you been?"

"Sleeping. The flight made me pretty tired." Dumb excuse.

"Ah. Well, you missed Fourth Harmony and five of Dani's songs." She's singing_ Never Been Hurt_, arms raised for the final chorus.

"Fourth Harmony good?" I ask, watching Dani throw herself into the music.

"Pretty good, yeah. Nothing tops Dani, though." Matt grins. "She's my only shorty."

I laugh. "She's _my_ only shorty too!"

We fall into a companionable silence, watching Dani perform. As ever, she delivers. Her performance is basically flawless. The pauses, when she speaks to the audience about her struggles, are beautiful and moving.

I smile. I'm hers.


	8. Chapter 8: Beautiful

**Author notes: Hey guys, I hope you're enjoying so far! If you like it, please review, cos that's what keeps me writing :) I hope you're all doing well, and if you spot any typos, please let me know! :)**

**Dani**

I wake up at around eight am. Santana is sleeping still. After last night, I'm not surprised. When I got off stage, she was awake, sitting in the wings with Matt.

She followed me to my dressing room, where I got changed.

"You're so hot…" she whispered, her hands tracing my breasts.

Things escalated quickly from there. Matt drove us to the hotel - "I'm so_ tired_, Matt!" I claimed - and we made love until the early hours of the morning… I feel a shiver run through me, just remembering.

I'm used to operating on around five or six hours of sleep every night, and getting up at six am, so eight is a nice sleep in.

Santana rolls over, pulling the covers closer to her chest, curled up on her side. She's so cute, I just wanna jump into bed and cuddle her and tell her. I restrain myself, knowing she's tired; her sleep through my show proved that yesterday.

I'll make her pancakes for breakfast; everyone likes pancakes, right? Even if she doesn't, we can get room service.

I go into the bathroom to call for the ingredients, not wanting to wake her or ruin the surprise. I feel like a sixteen year old again, hiding to call my friends, or make YouTube videos. When I re-emerge, Santana is still fast asleep, drooling a little onto the pillowcase. I stifle a laugh and get in the shower.

**Santana**

I wake up to an empty bed. I have a moment of panic - has Dani gone and left me? Left me in this big hotel bed, flown to her next destination? Then I hear the shower splashing and the faint sound of her singing a Serena Gomez song.

I smile to myself, then roll over and go back to sleep.

**Dani**

I get dressed, comfy clothes for now: grey sweatpants and a tight singlet. I've never worn the singlet in front of anyone before, because frankly, showing my upper arm makes me feel rather uncomfortable. It's fat and unattractive, but I don't think Santana will mind. She's the kind of person who will kiss it and tell me I'm beautiful, and I kind of hope that she does that.

The ingredients have been delivered, so I set about to making pancakes. Pancakes are pretty much the only food I can make, with the exception of a rather excellent cup of tea and an omelette - neither of which need a rocket scientist.

I flip them one by one onto a stack in the oven, keeping them warm. When I've finished, I wash the dishes and set out toppings on the table. Santana's still asleep, but it's nearly ten. I decide to give her until ten, then wake her up, otherwise we'll have no time together because I've got to play another show tonight. However, I'm skipping the signing today, so we've got a couple extra hours together.

"Santana?" I say, poking her side.

**Santana**

"Morning, gorgeous." I blink awake. Dani's standing at the end of the bed, tickling my feet.

I jerk away. "No… Sleep…"

"Pancakes…" Dani's holding a bottle of maple syrup suggestively.

"I suppose I could wake up…" I smile lazily, tingly at the thought of Dani making us pancakes.

"You better, or I'll eat them all!" She throws some clothes on the end of the bed. I'm still naked, I realise.

"Thanks," I say, giggling a bit.

"Drink?" she asks, heading in the direction of the kitchen.

My mouth tastes like aluminium, like I'm kind of dehydrated. "Yes please," I say.

"There's orange juice, water, I can make you tea, instant coffee, or vodka…" She laughs. "Please don't say vodka; it's not even eleven in the morning."

"Ugh," I say. Vodka would be somewhere between 'bee venom' and 'dog pee' on the list of things I don't want to drink right now. "Orange juice?"

"Sure," she says. It's nice to have Dani to myself, doing domestic-y things. I like this peaceful co-existence, the same way I liked having sex last night. To be honest, I just like being with Dani.

"Here you go." She sits down beside me and slides a glass of orange juice onto the table. "Dig in."

We eat in silence for a few minutes, then Dani says, "I have a confession to make."

"Lesbihonest..." I giggle, hoping that she's not pregnant or something equally as serious because a serious confession after that joke would make me feel really bad.

"Pancakes is pretty much the only thing I can cook."

I laugh louder. "Seriously?"

"Don't laugh at me!" She hits me, mouth twitching.

"Really? Honestly, truly, you're not joking?"

"And omelettes," she sputters, laughing slightly harder than I am.

"An omelette is just an egg pancake!" I yell, trying to stop laughing.

"An egg pancake!" We're both hysterical now, giggling like hyenas on weed. Whenever we begin to breathe normally, one of us will say it again and we'll be off again.

Once we calm down enough to eat, I discover that her pancakes are actually rather good. And like, by rather good, I mean _really good_.

"These are good," I tell her.

"Thanks," she says, taking another bite. Maple syrup runs down her chin and I laugh at her.

"That was attractive," I say, grabbing a napkin and dabbing it off.

"_Egg pancakes_," she retorts. I try to suppress my laughter but it comes bubbling out anyway.

"It's true!" I complain, waving my knife at her. "You whisk an egg and things together and fry it for an omelette. You whisk an egg and things together and fry it for a pancake, except a pancake has flour as the main ingredient."

Dani thinks about it for a minute. "You're kind of right. But still… _egg pancake_…" she whispers, still giggling.

I hit her. "You're an egg pancake!"

She laughs and hits me back. "I will tickle you," she threatens.

"How do you know I'm ticklish?" I am ticklish. I am very very ticklish on the bottoms of my feet and on the sides of my stomach.

"I literally woke you up by tickling you this morning, how could I not know?"

"Oh yeah…" I'd forgotten about that. "Dammit."

"Eat your pancakes," she says, rolling her eyes.

I oblige, looking at the stack in front of us. "I don't think we're going to eat that many pancakes," I say.

"We could send them to the starving children in Africa," she suggests, prodding one with her fork.

I laugh. "Yuck, they'd be all soggy!"

"Speaking of, I'm turning 21 this year." Dani takes another pancake and rolls a banana inside it, adding maple syrup to the top.

"How is soggy pancakes 'speaking of' your birthday celebrations?" I say, mock-curiously. "I don't actually even know when your birthday is."

She looks at me. "You mean you haven't googled me enough to know my birthday?"

"I've never googled you." I'm confused. Why would I do that?

"You're lying," she laughs. "Superstar girlfriend, everything you could want to know at your fingertips? Of course you've googled me."

"Honestly," I say, slightly offended that she doesn't believe me. "I haven't. We should get to know each other without the whole celebrity thing affecting us. Also, you just called yourself a superstar...doesn't this industry call for any modesty?"

She looks up from her pancake banana thing, half-smiling. "No way! And my birthday is August the twentieth."

"And you're turning 21?"

"Yeah, but I can't get smashed, because of my bipolar meds, and I don't want to relapse or anything, obviously...so I've been thinking about what I want to do. I want to go to Africa and do some charity work. Would you wanna come?"

I think about it. That could be fun. "Maybe. What exactly are you doing?"

"I'm going to Kenya for ten days - I'm staying in a village with a couple of camera people and a doctor, and I'm going to help build a school. This charity organization is going to use the footage for an ad, because celebrity endorsement, yo. I'm paying for the whole trip, and I'll pay for you too - another person won't add too much to the overall cost of the trip."

I blink, considering how much it must be costing if flying another person to Kenya isn't adding 'too much'.

"So…" she says. "Ten days in a third world country with your girlfriend, what could be better?" Dani doesn't sound entirely invested in what she's saying - it is a pretty outlandish suggestion, but then this, so far, has been a pretty outlandish relationship.

I smile and cover her hand with mine. "I guess we need to figure out the logistics of it, but that sounds great - anyway, what kind of a girlfriend would I be if I wasn't with you on your birthday?"

"Thanks, Santana!" Dani grins. "It's gonna be great."

I laugh. "You're full of surprises, you know that?"

She bites her lip as she looks down and it's so cute that I have to lean over and kiss her. "You're so cute, too," I explain.

She giggles. "Are you done with your pancakes?"

"Sure," I say, swallowing the last bite of my fourth one.

Dani picks up our plates and I take a stack of the unused toppings to the kitchen. I don't even bother asking how she got these - I've learnt that Dani Lovato can pull a lot of strings.

"So what's the plan today?" I ask, picking up the dishes and drying them as she washes them. It's cute how we're staying in a hotel that would wash them if we went out, but she still makes the effort anyway. Dani is that sort of person, I've found.

"I haven't got a signing today - I told Amber I needed 'me time' - so we can do whatever you want until about five," she tells me, smiling.

"'Me time'?" I question her. "Is that your excuse?"

Dani hits me. "Yes, it is, because I do need my time. If I happen to want to spend it with you...well, it's nobody's business, is it?"

"Wanna go see a movie or something?" I suggest. "What is there to do?"

Dani shrugs. "I was thinking something more creative. Ice-skating?"

"They do that here?"

"If you know where to look," she says.

**Dani**

While Santana has a shower, I make some calls.

First I talk to my psychiatrist. She recommends someone in the Lakeshore area. Then I call the Lakeshore psychiatrist.

I explain the situation and make an appointment for the following Thursday, subject to change.

Santana comes out of the bathroom, drying her wet hair.

"Can I have Helena's number?" I ask her.

She hands her phone to me. "Two five eight oh," she says. "I don't know what Helena saved herself as."

Santana has a bunch of crazy names in her contacts._ Period buddy_ - I guess that's Rachel, her room-mate. _Lady Hummel_ - I ask and she explains that it's Kurt, her other room-mate.

"He uses so much moisturizer, you have no idea!"

I laugh. "Okay. Who's _The Brit_?"

"Oh. Brittany, my ex." Santana smiles sheepishly.

"Right," I say, feeling awkward. I scroll down to the 'H' section and locate, plain and simple, _Helena Bradford_. I tap "call".

She picks up within a few rings. "Hello?" she says.

"Hi, Helena," I say, breaking out in a smile. "It's Dani here."

"Oh! Hi… Can you hold on a minute?" I hear a clattering and a muffled "excuse me!" down the line. "Back!"

"Okay, I made an appointment on Thursday next week. Will that work?" I say.

She thinks for a moment. "It should do, yeah. Where?"

I give her the address, time, and some numbers to call if she needs it. I also tell her that she should google the clinic and make sure that it's legitimate, because if I was a "nutjob" I could just send her to some serial killer.

She laughs, remembering her friend's phrases too, I hope. "Okay, I'll do that. Thank you so much, Dani."

"You're welcome, Helena."

I end the call, looking over at Santana. She walks over to me and hugs me from behind, kissing my shoulder. "You are such an amazing person," she says.

I smile, enjoying the flare of warmth that Santana's touch and words give me. "I love you," I say.

"I love you so much," she replies. "You're beautiful." And she runs her hands up and down my arms.


	9. Chapter 9: Magical

**Author's notes:** I have been shown the fic which the beginning of this is similar too, and I apologise for any confusion. I've edited the beginning so that it's no longer like the other fic, so read away! You can go back and re-read the beginning if you like, but it doesn't change anything.

**Santana**

I've never done this before… I told Dani so much in the car on the way here, and she just laughed at me. "You'll be fine. You've got a good sense of balance from dancing, right? You'll work it out. And if you don't, you can hold my hand and I'll pull you around."

I lace up my skates, watching as Dani pushes herself up onto hers. She wobbles a bit then finds her balance. "Come on, San!" she says, skating in backwards and forwards in front of me. I grimace at her skill, laughing at the funny faces she's pulling.

"I don't know if I can do this," I say, trying to get up and landing back on the seat of my butt with an inelegant slip.

Dani laughs at me. "Yes, you so can. Come on." She offers me a hand and I get to my feet with one hand on the bench and one hand in hers. Both of our hands are icy-cold, so in between balancing and trying to move, I lift hers to my mouth and kiss it. She giggles, biting her lip as she smiles.

I slide around, trying to make movements like I'm walking at first. Dani instructs me, showing me how to push my feet out a bit to get better traction and balance, and suddenly it all falls into place. I skate a little way on my own and then turn back to her. I nearly fall over but regain my composure and luckily Dani is too busy with her own balance to see.

"Coming?" I call, holding my arms out to the side.

"You okay?" she checks, skating up beside me. "I'm a bit out of practice myself."

"I'm fine. I think I got it, I just need to practise more!" I declare happily. She grins, slipping her hand into mine. It throws me off balance for a few seconds and I have to squeeze her hand to not fall on my butt, but then I figure it out and we keep skating. The ice-rink is a big oval and everyone is going in the same general direction.

This is an unbelievably fun date.

Once we've both settled into the rhythm of skating, Dani shouts "Race you!" and I race her around the rink.

I go too fast and crash into the wall, nearly doing the splits. I'm saving only by clinging to the railing and pulling myself back up. Dani doubles over laughing but then we race again and she slides over and tries to land a skid like she's on stage.

"I think I'd have a heart atta-a-a-ack!" she sings. Her voice, unedited, is beautiful. A few people glance around but I think the only ones who recognise her are the middle school piranhas, who are all too shy to approach. I laugh and help her up.

We do it again and again. I find multitudes of ways to fall on my butt that I didn't even know existed. There are times when I'm about to fall over and she pulls me in close to her and keeps me from falling while she kisses me.

"Eww, gross!" I hear some middle school kid shouting, and I smile into her lips.

She waits until I've got my balance again and puts her forehead against mine. "_Eww, gross_," she laughs.

I laugh too, until some other kid whizzes past and nearly takes me out, then we keep skating. This time I try to jump on my skates, do a flying leap like some of the experts are.

"You look like a penguin, please stop!" Dani is clinging to the wall and has her head thrown back, laughing.

"Shut up!" I stick my hands out like penguin wings and slide a bit closer.

"Oh god, that's scary!"

I laugh and drop them, skating over and pinning her against the wall. "What was that?"

"You're very scary," she whispers, eyes flitting over my face. I kiss her quickly, then touch my cold fingertips to her cheek.

"Aah!" She skates away quickly.

"Come back here!" I yell, but she's still faster than me if she wants to be, so I skate slowly in the direction she went and hope that she'll come back around.

"Boo!" She does come back, skating past me and then spinning so she's facing me, skating backwards.

"That's very elegant," I tell her, just as she crashes into a middle school girl.

She swats at me as I help her up. "At least I can skate straight." She pokes her tongue out at me.

"You can't even act straight, who are you hating on?" I say, knowing she can't argue.

"How could I, when you're so incredibly hot?" She grabs my wrists and pulls me closer, entwining our fingers.

"Good point," I manage as she kisses me again. Every time she kisses me, I get these little fireworks displays in my stomach, in my head, everywhere.

**Dani**

Santana picks up skating remarkably quickly. I guess it's all that dance training at NYADA.

I can't imagine anything I would rather be doing than skating here, beside her, holding her hand.

Except maybe being able to feel her hand. The rink is freezing, quite literally. "San? You wanna go get some hot chocolate?"

"Sure," she says. "If I can get these skates off my feet again."

We skate to a bench where I first unlace my skates, then help Santana get hers off. She laughs when I have to grab her foot to pull it out and when I go to put the skates in a cubby, she leans up and kisses me. I smile down at her, passing her her shoes and putting on mine. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she says.

"What do you want?" I ask her as we're standing in line.

"Hot chocolate? That's what we came here for, right?"

"Yeah. Hungry?" I ask.

"I'm fine," she says.

"We can have a muffin," I declare.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine."

I place the order, and I hold up the line searching for the right card. I can never remember which one is my tour expenses card. I finally wave it, apologizing to the customers behind me, none of whom notice.

I breathe a silent sigh of relief that no one recognised me and take a table marker.

"Hey," I say, sitting down at the table that Santana's picked.

"Hi," she replies.

"Good date?" I ask, kissing her forehead.

"Yeah, it was… Better than the movies, anyway."

"I got to see you look like a penguin," I laugh.

"Yeah, you did." Santana smiles, flicking a sachet of sugar between her fingers. "You look nice." Her eyes duck down towards the table as she says it.

I automatically glance down at my outfit - jeans, a green top cinched with a belt, and a black leather jacket. "Thanks. You do too."

She's wearing a flared pink dress over sheer stockings with a jacket similar to mine over top. She must have been freezing skating, but she's gorgeous now, with the cold making her look a bit flushed.

The waitress brings us our hot chocolate and muffin and I can't help but think how lucky I am to be sitting here, with Santana. I smile at her, stirring my hot chocolate.

"Do I make you happy, San?" As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I look down. "Sorry, I-"

Santana smiles back at me when I dare to glance up again. "You make me so happy, Dani." She slides her hands over mine.

I breathe out. "You make me happy too," I try to say but she leans over and kisses me with a mouth that tastes like chocolate and in that moment I can't imagine anything more magical.


	10. Chapter 10: Goodbyes

**Author's notes: **Hope you enjoy! This one's quite long to make up for the short chapter yesterday :) Just a reminder that I changed the first chapter so you can go back and reread that if you like! Review if you can be bothered? Pretty please? Also I'm probably going to out of internet access for a few days so I'm not sure when the next update will be. Thanks :)

**Dani**

I wake up at seven today, a bit of a sleep in because we packed up last night. All I have to do is get to the airport and get us both safely on our flights.

When I get out of bed, I tuck the duvet back around Santana's back, where I'd been spooning her last night.

Last night wasn't the big love making affair the night before was. After a bit of casual making out and pleasuring each other, we just went to sleep, her spooned against me, hand squeezing mine until her headache subsided. She'd cuddled up to me, whispering, "Dani, I just need Tylenol and sleep." So, being the good girlfriend I was trying to be, I got her Tylenol and water and rubbed her back while she went to sleep.

I had expected it to take me a while to sleep with her pressed so close, but her soft breathing and hand loosely holding mine simply served to send me to sleep faster.

I actually feel more rested than I have in days, despite playing another show last night. Sometimes things just line up and I have really good shows - ones where the audience just seems to click, and I get totally into the zone. Last night was one of those shows, and my good night's sleep with Santana has only made me feel better.

I look at her curled up form on the bed, holding the covers under her chin. I doubt she'll be waking any time soon, so I write a quick note - _Hey hun, if you wake up I've gone for a run. Just order room service if you're hungry. I love you! -Dani_

On tour, it's hard for me to find the time and energy for a strict exercise regime, although practising and performing the dance routines is often loads all by itself.

But today I'm keen tie up my hair and sneakers and head out down the street for a run.

As I go down the elevator, I drop Matt a quick text to let him know where I'm going - I already know the route I'm planning to run on, and I'm supposed to let him know in case I need help.

Getting into the smooth rhythm of running is good, feet hitting the ground _one-two, one-two_. It's a calming practice and it helps me distance myself from my life. Sometimes I need perspective.

I'm listening to a playlist of songs that I'm utterly in love with and that I've worn to the bone - they range from songs like _Undone_ by Haley Reinhart, and Birdy's cover of _Skinny Love_ to utter pop anthems like _Change Your Life_ by Little Mix and _Classic_ by MKTO.

I keep up a steady pace, the blood slowly pumping faster and faster. I pause to take a sip from the small bottle of water I carry - I need hydration and it's really not that much weight after carrying a microphone around performance after performance.

I'm stopped at traffic lights. A bunch of teenage girls who look like cheerleaders in running gear stop too. One of them introduces herself. "I'm Quinn," she says, shaking my hand. "Nice to meet you."

I smile, saying, "I'm Dani."

"We know," choruses the team. I smile at their synchronicity. They sound very close.

"Would you mind taking a team picture?" Quinn asks.

"You mean, with me in it or me taking it?" I check, not wanting to assume that they want me in it, because that's getting remarkably big-headed.

"Why would we want you in it?" Quinn glances at me, then breaks into a smile. "I'm just kidding. With you in it." She asks a man who's also stuck at the lights to help us, and then I pose with the team.

"There you go," he says.

"Thank you." Quinn flashes a brilliant smile at me, then the lights change and the cheerleaders are off again.

I consider following them, then turn back instead of going through the traffic lights as planned. I've run just over a mile and now I can run the same distance back, and that'll be quite enough for today, because Santana's probably awake by now and I really want to see her so we can plan something to do today before we fly out.

I realise, as I run, that my attraction to Santana is starting to run deeper than just attraction. She makes me laugh and she's made me cry and she's looked after me in the best way possible. I'm starting to need to be near her. To see her laugh, to hold her hand, to kiss her gently.

I can just imagine all the cute things I'd do for her if I had the chance - like tomorrow, she said she's due on her period. I'd bring her DVDs and hot water bottles and make her cups of tea and rub her back - _wait._

If I can't do all that for her in person...maybe there's something else I can do.

I duck into the closest store and ask for directions to the nearest post office.

"Right up the street. You'll see the big Walmart? Right across from that."

"Perfect," I say, thanking her and buying a bar of chocolate for her trouble.

First I go to the post office and buy a pre-paid postal box. It's a cube, about two foot by two foot, and I pay for it with the credit card that I always tuck inside my sports bra in case I need something on my run.

I check the time - I've only been gone around half an hour, so Santana shouldn't be waking up anytime soon. Then I head over to the Walmart.

I finally tape the box closed and realise that I have no idea what Santana's address is.

I drop Matt a text.

Dani - _Hey Matt, I'm at the post office, not too far from the hotel. Can you get me either Santana's address or Kurt's phone number? Whatever you do, DO NOT ask Santana or tell her where I am._

Matt - _Shady, huh? LOL. Sure thing, Dani, gimme a minute._

I occupy myself by doodling on the notepad I bought to write the notes on. After an interminable few minutes, Matt texts back with the address.

I copy it out onto the lid of the box.

Dani -_ Thanks Matt! I'm headed back to the hotel in about five minutes._

I go and post the box, making sure that it's by express mail so that it arrives tomorrow morning, then jog back to the hotel. I smile to myself, imagining Santana's reaction tomorrow morning. I hope she enjoys it.

I swipe the door card to let myself in and the first thing I see is Santana, lying on her back on the floor.

"Santana?" I crouch beside her. "What's up?"

"Not your dick," she says with a bare hint of a smile, eyes staying closed.

I refrain from hitting her and sit back on my heels. "What's wrong?" I rephrase.

"Headache."

"Aww," I say, squeezing her shoulder. "You want some Tylenol?"

"Yes please," she whispers. I have to dig through my already-packed bag to find it, but then I come back and sit down beside her.

"Here. You need some help sitting up?" She declines and sits up by herself.

I wait while she sculls down the water, then take the glass from her. "You just need to lie down and rest for a while, okay? I'm going to take our bags down to the car." I kiss her forehead. I assume that it's just her PMS getting her again. My poor honeybun.

I heft our bags to the door, then look back at Santana. I don't want to leave her feeling this bad again, so I dash to Matt's door - he's staying two rooms down from us. I ask him to take them down instead.

She's back on the bed, curled up. I sit down beside her and start gently rubbing her temples. "Is this okay?" I ask her, wanting to make sure I'm not hurting her any more.

"It's nice," she whispers, brushing a hand against my knee. "Thank you."

I cuddle her until she rolls over and looks up at me. "I love you," she says, kissing me on the lips. "I feel better now, just my PMS kicking me in the head."

_Like a badly trained donkey on a timer_, I think, but I just give her a hug. "You okay?"

"Yep. What are we doing today?"

"It's only about eight thirty... Our flights are both around ten thirty. We've got about an hour and a half? What do you wanna do?"

She shrugs, blinking tiredly.

"Shopping?" I suggest.

Santana grins, eyes wide open. "Now that, girlfriend, is something I can relate to!"

I snicker. "'_Girlfriend_'? Has anyone actually used that word like that since the nineties?"

"Yes," she says, hopping up. "Me."

**Santana**

Dani takes me to a mall. She drives, all the windows down and the roof rolled back, radio blasting. I laugh at her - she looks ridiculous and gorgeous - but when_ Made In The USA_ starts playing, I start cracking up in earnest.

Dani grins at me, mouthing the first couple of lines. She is perfectly in time with the lyrics.

She comes in properly on the third line. "You're runnin' round openin' doors like a gentleman, tell me girl everyday, you're my everything-"

I start singing too. I just stick to the melody and a bit of back up when the verse is playing, but when the chorus hits, I start a harmony. Dani stops midway through "Our love was made-" and leaves me carrying on the long note.

She smiles. "You're quite good. I like your harmony."

"Thanks. This would've been cool on the bridge too, I thought," I say.

Dani thinks for a moment. "That is actually pretty genius. You should help me with the melodies on my next song."

"Sure," I say, squeezing her hand.

And then we belt out the final chorus together. I actually see someone take a picture, but in that moment I don't care; Dani is the only one I'm really looking at, and her face as she sings the final line makes my heart skip a beat.

"Ready?"

"Do you know your way around?" I ask.

"Mostly, yeah. Hold on-" she grabs a pair of glasses and a headscarf from the glove compartment and puts them on. "Now I'm a little more incognito." She locks the convertible and we head for the elevator.

I let myself be led around the shops. Dani knows all the best ones. In every shop, she demands that I choose two things for her and she chooses two things for me.

In the first shop, I take out my credit card and she looks at me incredulously. "Santana, I have an expenses card with like, a million dollars on it or something. I'm paying."

I give a token protest but she laughs at me and pays.

In some shops we're serious - I choose a gorgeous full-length beach dress, and she chooses a red bikini. In another store, she chooses frilly socks and a bandana with "PUNK" stamped on it. I choose cat ears and a belt with fluro dangly bits like look like mini penises.

Laughing, we reject everything except the cat ears and buy a pair each.

I tuck Dani's over her head, proclaiming, "I anoint you Queen of the Pussy!"

"Don't you need something wet to be anointing things?" Dani giggles and looks down my body seductively.

"Don't worry, I've got it," I say, putting her hand on my hip.

"Really…?" she says, pulling me closer.

I pull a water bottle out of my bag, shaking it. "Yup!"

Dani hits me. "Egg pancake."

"What?" I smile innocently.

"You!" She pulls me into another shop - ah, a shoe shop. I look around, checking out all the shoes. Dani pushes me onto a seat and slides a pair of red Converse onto my feet. "So, what are you going to call your bear?"

I blink. I'd almost forgotten about the giant bear she'd gotten me. It had been sitting on a chair in the hotel room like a fixture. I'm going to look like such a weirdo taking that on the plane.

"I don't know…" I think as I tie up the Converse.

"Nice," Dani approves the footwear. "So?"

"Demi," I say. "It means 'half', cos she's like, half the size of a person."

"Demi." Dani rolls the word around. "Good. The question is, Lopez, whose last name?"

I laugh, jumping up and down in the shoes. "Demi Lopez. Demi Lovato. How about Demi Lovato-Lopez?"

"Take the shoes off, I'm getting them." Then she hits me. "That poor kid! You can't hyphenate two 'L' names, that's just mean."

I pull them off. "You should get a pair too. And Demi Lopez sounds like she's about to go nuts with an axe… I don't know. Demi Lovato."

"Demi Lovato… Hmm." Dani smiles and takes another pair of Converses in size seven for her.

"I can't believe we just named a bear like a child."

"At least it'll make it easier later," Dani laughs, putting the shoe boxes on the counter. She pays and thanks the assistant brightly, adding yet another bag to the stack on her arm.

"Totally," I say.

Dani checks her watch. "It's almost nine forty-five. You wanna grab something to eat?"

"Sure," I say. "You want me to take some bags?"

"I'm good," she says. "I'm gonna go sit down. Can you get us something to eat? I'll have a smoothie and whatever you're eating."

I nod. "Which place?"

"I don't care," she laughs. "Here's my card."

"Okay, hun." I kiss her forehead and go wait in line, ordering two apple and mango smoothies and, glancing at the menu, French toast. I wave the card at the EFTPOS terminal and take an order number.

"French toast alright?" I ask as I sit down.

"Yeah," she says. "Thanks."

"So, when am I going to see you next?" I've been too awkward to broach the subject, but now that we're headed to the airports for our separate flights, I need to know.

Dani blinks, looking suddenly vulnerable. "I don't know...you can come out whenever you want, but you have commitments, right?"

"Well, yeah. I'm sorry. I have dance classes, and a teaching class, and I have to work too." I sigh.

"And you can only come out when I'm not travelling," Dani adds.

"So I'm not gonna see you for a while?" I ask.

"Actually, next Monday. I've got a week's break then. I was thinking you could come and stay in L.A. with me?"

As tempting as it is - I've never been to Los Angeles - I have to shake my head. "I can't. I can't miss a whole week of work and classes and everything. But…" I pause for a moment. "You could come stay in the loft with me."

Dani thinks about it. "And meet Rachel-who-dated-a-prostitute and Lady Hummel?"

"In fact, you get to live with them. For a whole week. Which might be the downfall of this deal, because-"

"I'm in," Dani says, mimicking me on our first date.

"Good," I say, relieved when our smoothies come so I have something to do with my hands.

"Monday the twenty first of July," Dani says. "I'll be there."

I grin. "I can't wait!"

"Me neither. How are you going to survive without me?"

"Skype," I say immediately. "You know what you should do?"

"Mmm?" Dani sips her smoothie.

"Live-stream your shows. Make people pay to watch them. Then I can watch you."

Dani looks up at me. "Santana, you are actually a genius. How haven't you gotten into the music industry yet?"

I sip from my drink. "Top of the list would be,_ I'm not a gold digger_," I say sarcastically.

"That's true," she says.

"Good for you, right?" I add.

"Even if you were a gold digger, how could you help falling in love with me?" Dani asks dramatically, flipping her hair for effect.

"That's true," I say, and by the time the waiter brings our French toast, we're kissing.

"Sorry," Dani apologises to him. "Thank you."

We eat in mostly silence, only commenting on the food.

"Dani!" Some blonde girl hurries over to our table. "Hi!" She has a perky way of speaking that is faintly irritating.

"Quinn! I remember you. Did your coach like the photo?"

I'm at a total loss as to what is going on. Quinn smiles. "We didn't show her."

Dani blinks. "Oh. Quinn, this is Santana, my girlfriend. Santana, this is Quinn. I met her the other day on my run."

"Hi," I say cheerfully.

"Hi." Quinn looks back at Dani. "Well, I just wanted to say hi. See ya!"

She bounces away.

"That's funny," I say. "There used to be a girl called Quinn on my cheerleading team in high school."

"Weird," Dani shrugs.

**Dani**

"So...I guess this is goodbye," I say. Santana's got her backpack slung over her shoulder, she's holding her boarding pass and she looks absolutely miserable.

"Bye," she says, wrapping her arms around me tightly.

I hug her back, feeling every curve of her body press into mine, inhaling her scent, listening to her whispering how much she loves me.

"I love you," I reply, kissing her. She sighs into the kiss and I break it off. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I'll just miss you, is all." She blinks, dashing a hand under her eyes. "Thank you, for everything."

"You're welcome, gorgeous." I squeeze her hands and kiss her one last time and then I have to walk away because they're calling my flight.

"Bye," I hear her whisper.

It's hard to walk away from her, knowing that she's probably feeling awful, knowing I can't stay to make her feel better.

I force myself to the boarding line anyway because I have to go. Matt stands beside me.

A couple of ten year olds ask for my autograph and I oblige, signing their little notepads. I try to talk to them, but only my automatic Hi-how-are-you-what-are-your-names-what's-your-favourite-song speech comes out. I'm too drained to do anything else.

I'm on a low mood swing, I can tell. Even though I was feeling great this morning, I've started to come back down, needing time and space to recover. I go through the motions of boarding on autopilot and when I can finally sit down, I immediately close my eyes, trying to meditate.

The person sitting next to me is a forty-something woman who seems to have no interest in me, engrossed in a fitness magazine of some kind, thank god.

After take-off, I put in headphones and listen to my playlist of calming music, trying to convince myself that I'm not crying, and fall asleep.

**Santana**

I can't believe how much it rips my heart out to say goodbye to Dani. Just a few hours ago, we were laughing in a mall together and now I have to hide my face in her shoulder just so she doesn't see my tears.

I wouldn't usually be this emotional - I mean, I'm seeing her in less than a week, so it's not that bad.

I am starting to see how the strain of Dani's nomadic life is going to affect us though.

My PMS is hitting me hard, and I just want to stay with her, and my headache is coming back with a vengeance, and it all just combines so that when she walks away, blowing me kisses and telling me that she loves me, I'm left feeling like crap, rubbing my forehead and wiping away tears.

My flight hasn't been called yet, so I sit down. I just feel like I need to go home and be comforted. I hear them calling that Dani's flight has closed for boarding, and I close my eyes and take deep breaths.

I just want to go home.


	11. Chapter 11: Unexpected

**Author's notes: **Here's one more chapter! There may or may not be another one before I leave, we'll see ;) hope you enjoy, thanks for the reviews :)

**Santana**

I wake up Thursday morning because it feels like someone is stabbing me with a blunt knife in my abdomen. I sigh. That time of the month again. And I have an hour and a half of dance class at one. I bury my head in the covers, but that just makes me feel faintly nauseated.

Ugh. I roll over, trying to find a comfortable way to lie, but there is none. I press my fists into my stomach and breathe out. It feels like someone's twisting my stomach around with a spaghetti-style fork.

I'm feeling much better about the Dani thing though - after Kurt made me chocolate soufflé and talked me through it. "It's only a few days, Santana. She'll be back before you know it." Which, I guess, I already knew, but...

"Santana?" Rachel yells up the stairs.

"Fuck off, Rachel!" I yell back.

"There's a delivery guy here for you! Says you have to sign for yourself!" I know that Rachel has added "bitch" quietly on the end of that because we're completely in sync and she'll be feeling like just as much shit as I am.

"Fine!" I get up and pull a dressing robe over my skimpy pajamas.

"Sign here," the guy says. I sign there. "Here you go," he says, picking up the plain cardboard box at his feet.

"What in the hell?" Kurt's awake now too, looking bleary-eyed.

"I don't know," I reply, temporarily putting my need for some serious pain relief on hold.

"Sender?" he asks, flicking the kettle on.

"Nothing," I say.

"What are you waiting for? Open it!" Rachel says, sitting on the couch and pulling her knees up to her chest, wincing at the bright light aas Kurt opens the kitchen curtains.

I get a knife and slice through the packing tape. Opening the flaps, I discover a note taped to the inside of one of them.

_Sorry I couldn't be there - I thought this might help. Feel better soon, honeybun. -Dani_

"It's from Dani," I say.

"That explains a lot," Rachel grumps. "Of course Dani would post you a huge fucking box on the morning of my monthlies and wake us all up."

Kurt winks at me behind her back and offers her a cup of tea and some Advil.

"Maybe you'll change your mind once you see what's in here," I say, grinning.

"What?" Kurt and Rachel lean forward at the same time.

I pull out things one by one. There's a two hot water bottles, one with a panda cover and one with a dog cover, three DVDs - _No Strings Attached, The Help_, and _John Tucker Must Die_. The note tied between the hot water bottles says: _Rachel's on the same cycle as you, right? I thought she'd like the dog one_. The note on the DVDs says: _Don't watch No Strings Attached until you can laugh about being on your period._

Rachel sits forward. "Did your girlfriend literally send you a care package because you've got your monthlies?" She sounds both envious and sarcastic.

I stick my tongue out at her - I think Dani's done well. It's put a smile on my face, anyway. There's a couple of different kinds of painkillers - _Sorry, I didn't know which one you take!_ the note declares. There's pads and panty liners and tampons - no note. I guess she figures that I'm not too dumb to figure that one out.

There's more too - I dig deeper and turn up bubble bath, massage oil and shower gel, all tied together with a bow and a note: _I hope someone will give you a massage but if they don't I'll do it when I see you next._

A box of tea bags with Chinese print and a note attached: _This stuff always helps me and even if it doesn't it tastes good._

An envelope that has written on it: _Send Kurt down to the sushi place for dinner._

And finally, two fluffy pairs of slippers with cat faces on them. _One for you and one for Rachel - now you have pussies on your feet ;) love Dani x_

I laugh. Dani really is an amazing girlfriend. Rachel looks slightly less grumpy, although whether that's the painkillers or Dani's efforts, I'm not sure.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I might like moisturizing but the amount of estrogen in this room is killing me," he says.

Rachel hits him with one of the pussy slippers. "Tell that to me after you've been stabbed in the stomach with a pitchfork and have to dance your way through a day at NYADA."

Kurt laughs again. "I'm kidding, Rachel. I respect your strength," he says placatingly. "More tea?"

Rachel sighs and flops over sideways.

Kurt stands up. "Advil, Santana?"

I nod, flattening the box out to put in the recycling.

"Thanks, Kurt," I say as he gives me two tablets and a glass of water. After getting his head ripped off the first time Rachel got her period, he's worked out that it's in his best interest to give us both painkillers and placate us.

"No problem."

"We're having sushi for dinner, apparently." I hand him the envelope.

"Thrilling!" He snatches it off me and does a pirouette. "I'll put all this away."

He puts the painkillers in the pantry, and slides the dog slippers onto Rachel's feet. "Cinderella!" he declares dramatically. I roll my eyes at their theatrics, sure that Rachel will probably break out in song at any moment.

In the shower, I start to feel a bit better as the painkillers kick in. I get dressed in a hurry as Rachel bashes on the door, yelling that she needs tampons.

When I come downstairs, Rachel's lying on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her. Kurt sits down beside her, holding the two hot water bottles. "You wanna watch a movie?"

"Yeah," I say.

I drag a couple of pillows onto the floor and Kurt dumps all the cushions on the floor in front of the couch and I put an arm around Rachel. She leans her head on my shoulder.

Kurt puts on _The Help_. As the opening scene plays, I compose a text to Dani.

Santana - _Morning, gorgeous! I got your care package...that was so cute. Thank you so much :) made me feel much better x I love you._

"You're such a romantic!" Rachel squeals, suddenly sitting up.

"I'm not!" I protest, quickly blanking the screen of my phone.

"You so are! I saw that!"

I roll my eyes. "Shut up."

Rachel just smiles and puts her head on my shoulder again.

**Dani**

I'm sitting up in bed checking my emails when my phone chimes. I read the text from Santana and I smile.

Dani - _Morning. I love you too x you're absolutely welcome, I'm so glad that it made you feel better - how are you feeling? x_

I open the next email. It's one from my agent. Attached is a demo of a song.

_This is off the _Frozen_ soundtrack. I've been asked if you want to sing it to be released as a single, and I think it would suit your voice. Have a listen and tell me what you think._

I listen to the sample. It's a great song. I'm keen to sing it. I write a quick note telling her that I'll accept the offer and asking when I'm going to record it.

My phone chimes again.

Santana -_ Not great but it's not that bad. We're watching _The Help_._

Dani - _Aww hun {hugs} You enjoying it?_

Santana - _Haha yeah it's actually really good. Emma Stone is awesome._

Dani - _She's so much cooler in person._

Santana - _I'm sooooooo jealous of you! :P_

Dani - _Shhhh perks of the job. So relaxing is making you feel better?_

Santana - _Yeah. Hopefully I'll be okay for my dance class too._

Dani - _Aww, you have one today? Poor baby x_

Santana - _It'll be fine :) When are you due, anyway? Maybe I can do the same thing for you ;) even though it would totally be a rip off._

Dani - _I'm not. I skip the sugar pills on tour, because who wants to be performing on stage when all they're good for is ODing on painkillers and a hot water bottle?_

Santana - _Good point. At least I don't have to feel bad that I'm not with you then :)_

Dani -_ I love you._

**Santana**

When Dani texts me back, I open my phone behind Rachel's head so she can't read it.

I'm just telling her that I don't have to feel bad when doorbell rings. Kurt pauses the movie and sighs. I can't get up with Rachel leaning all over me and holding a hot water bottle on my stomach. And she's not moving off my shoulder. Kurt gets up, giving us both the finger for our laziness and laughing. As the door clicks open his laughter stops abruptly.

"Oh my god," he says.

Rachel and I glance at each other and then get up and rush to the door too.

It's Quinn. She's standing at the door with a sports bag and one hand raised to the doorbell.

"Oh honey," Rachel says, holding out her arms. Quinn's whole face trembles and then she falls into Rachel's arms.

I grab Quinn's bag and Rachel guides her onto the couch.

I flick the kettle back on, dropping one of Dani's relaxing tea bags into a cup and getting out the chocolate mousse that Kurt made last night. Quinn looks like she's in need of some serious comfort.

She looks so tired and small where she sits on the couch, hands folded in her lap. I crouch in front of her and hand her the cup of tea. Her hands are shaking. "Cold?"

She doesn't say anything, just sits there, tears rolling down her cheeks as Rachel talks to her quietly, speaking words of comfort. Kurt goes to Rachel's bedroom and brings back her duvet. He wraps it around Quinn and I see the shoulder squeeze he gives her, meant for comfort.

Quinn sips at the tea, still not saying anything. Eventually Rachel's pattering speech peters out and Quinn is left staring at the floor.

"Hey Quinn?" I say, kneeling in front of her. "You can stay here as long as you want, okay?"

She nods, once.

"You need to sleep, alright? I'm gonna take you to bed, and then I'm going to bring you something to eat, then you're going to sleep." I put my arm around Quinn and I notice that she flinches when I touch her side.

I take her to Rachel's bed, tuck her in, put the cup of tea beside her and go to the kitchen. Kurt's already made her a sandwich and I take it to her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Kurt made you some food. You need to eat, okay?" I watch her as she puts it in her mouth, chews slowly and swallows. Still no talking. She gets halfway through the sandwich, puts it down and lies down.

"Sleep well, okay?" I touch her forehead. Slight fever. I go back out to the lounge, where Kurt and Rachel are both sitting on the couch.

"Did you find out what's wrong?" Rachel asks, sitting forward.

"She won't talk. I don't know…" I put my head in my hands.

Kurt sighs. "We just have to look after her, I guess. I'm going to cancel my shift at the diner so I can stay here. You guys go to class."

I look up. "Kurt, as sweet as that is, I think Rachel or I should stay. She needs her girlfriends, and neither of us really want to go to dance class anyway. Plus you - we - need the money. For rent and stuff."

Kurt nods. "Okay. Fair enough."

"I can stay, Rach," I offer. "You need the dance class for Funny Girl."

Rachel nods. "Okay. Are you sure?"

"Yup. I'm gonna go sit with her, okay? So there's someone there when she wakes up."

Kurt goes to the kitchen, what he always does when he's worried. I can hear the dull thump of the knife as he cuts things up.

Rachel comes down the hall and into her room.

"You okay, San?" She sits down beside me.

"Yeah," I say. "I'm just...worried about Quinn."

She hugs me. "It'll be okay."

"I hope so."

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I remember Dani and check my phone. I can't tell her this in a text. I have to call her.

"I'll be back in a minute," I tell Rachel. She nods as I leave.

I call Dani, desperate to hear her voice.

"Dani?" I say. And then I burst into tears.

**Dani**

Santana calls me up after about half an hour. I'm just eating toast, and I grab the phone and accept the call.

"Hey!" I say happily.

"Dani?" And then she starts crying.

"Santana? What is it?" I stand up, pacing over to the mirror. "Honey?"

She slowly breathes in and out. "Sorry, just..."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah-" and then she spills everything. Her friend Quinn, what happened, absolutely everything.

"Oh, hun. I'm so sorry." I comfort her with words as much as I can. "I know you need hugs right now. I wish I could be with you, but I really hope it all works out." I sigh, imagining how much she just wants to curl up and relax.

"It's- It'll be okay. Look, I should get back. I'm sorry. I'll, um, talk to you later." Santana ends the call, sounding freaked out.

I worry for the rest of the day. I eat my now-cold toast, then go to the pool complex. I swim back and forth for ages, veering between worry about Santana and doubt about her and just everything gets tangled up in my head.

At hair and make up, I'm a mess, twisting my hands in my lap as Serafina works around my head.

"Dani! This is full of chlorine." She shakes her head and pushes me over to the basin to wash it.

I wince involuntarily as she rubs my head. "Tense?" she asks, lathering up the shampoo.

"Yeah," I say. "Just Santana stuff."

"Oh," she says. "You can tell me. If you want." She sounds awkward, as if she's remembering the last time Santana was here.

I don't actually dislike Serafina at all; I just had a mood swing that day and she did have a crush on my girlfriend, although I suppose I understand that… I tell her all about the drama, needing to sort out the mess in my head. She nods and agrees sympathetically in the appropriate places.

"You know, she'll be okay, right? She's got her friends, and you'll be there in a few days. You are a good girlfriend." Serafina sprays warm water over my hair.

"I know," I say. "It's just hard… It's still so early in the relationship, and I just - I just want to be with her, you know."

"Yeah, I know," she says. "I know."

**Santana**

Rachel's making us toasties for lunch when Quinn wakes up.

"Santana?" she whispers. I sit forward.

"Hey, Quinn. You okay?"

"I feel better now," she says. "Thanks. I'm sorry for turning up like that."

"It's okay. You need somewhere to stay?" I guess.

"I'm sorry-" Her face screws up.

"It's okay. Stay as long as you want." I sit up on the bed next to her. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

She shakes her head. "Can I use the bathroom?"

I show her, then head to the lounge. "I'm going to make up a bed in the spare room for Quinn."

Rachel nods. "I'll get some bedding."

Rachel and I make up the bed silently. She does the sheets, I do the duvet cover. There's an empty filing cabinet which I figure Quinn can use for her stuff until we sort her out more. It didn't look like she had that much.

"Thanks, guys." Quinn stands at the door, holding onto the frame like she might fall over.

"It's okay, Quinn. We've always been here if you needed us and we're here now," Rachel says, putting an arm around her and sitting her down.

"You need anything?" I sit on the other side of her, patting her back.

"I'm fine," she whispers, when it's so blindingly obvious that she's not.

**Dani**

I'm playing Candy Crush in my dressing room when Santana Skypes me.

"Hello?" Her face pops into the picture.

"San!" I force a smile for her. "How are you?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," she says. "I'm glad to see you."

"How's Quinn?"

"She's...okay. She won't talk about anything. We're really worried." Santana tries for a smile.

"Oh, honeybun. It'll be okay," I say.

"I really hope so," she says, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "So how was your day?"

"I went swimming, then there was prep for tonight and now I'm just waiting in the dressing room to warm up… I was gonna call you to make sure you were okay."

"Thanks, Dani," she says. "I've been hugging Demi and thinking about you." She giggles. "Is that stupid?"

"No. It's actually really kind of cute," I say.

"I love you," she says, blinking furiously.

"I love you too, San."

"Yeah," she says. "This morning was amazing, by the way. That really made my totally shitty day much better."

"I want to make you feel better every time your day sucks," I say, biting my lip at how cheesy that sounds.

"I-" Santana looks down. I think she's crying a bit, but that's okay. "I'd like that."

"I know, San, I know. You're gonna be okay," I say, seeing that she's now crying openly. "Quinn will be okay; you're absolutely spectacular at looking after people, and I would know! I'll be there in less than four days to give you hugs and rub your back and everything, hun. Just hold on."

Santana manages to smile for a few seconds. "Dani, you're amazing. Totally amazing."

"I just want you to be okay." I hold up a hand in the camera view. She holds up hers and I can see her squeeze her eyes shut as she imagines my hand in hers.

"I love you, so, so, so, much," Santana whispers.

"I love you all the way from Chicago to New York, San."

She smiles a bit at that and I think I've done my job of cheering her up a bit.

"Anyway, hun, I've got to go for warm ups." Amber's yelling through my earpiece for me. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah? Bye!"

"Bye, Dani. Good luck, sweetie!"

I blow her a kiss and end the call.


	12. Chapter 12: Oopsie

**Author's notes:** Hey, I'm back! Hope you enjoy... Thanks for all the great reviews :)

**Dani**

Friday sees me stuck behind a desk, holding a signing. It's actually the perfect place for me to be, talking to people who love me, instead of worrying about Santana. It's eleven in the morning and I haven't heard a peep from her - no text, no call, no Facebook.

I just hope she's alright.

There's a couple of ten year old girls in front of me. Both of them are enthusiastically telling me about how they play soccer. I don't have room to get a word in edgewise, so I smile and nod, telling them how great that is when they pick up their CDs and go.

The signing doesn't go on too long, in fact barely until twelve, because it's a school day. Tomorrow will be far more hectic.

Matt drives me back to my caravan. When he stops, he looks at me, concerned. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just quite tired," I lie.

"Okay. Call me if you need anything, okay, Dani?" He nods and waves goodbye. I don't think I convinced him, but the important thing is that he's leaving me alone so I can relax for a while.

I lie down, rubbing my temples. Still no word from Santana and the message I sent her this morning has been read but not replied to. She was a total mess yesterday, texting me all afternoon. She veered between feeling shitty because of her period and feeling shitty because Quinn was a mess too and I just had to try and calm her down.

Dani - _Morning, my darling. I hope you're okay, guess you're still asleep? I'll talk to you later, but {hugs} if you're not feeling great x _

"Hello?" There's a knock on my door. I sigh. I would kill to just be able to sleep. I swear I'll be fine tonight for my show if I can just have a breather.

"Come in," I call, tapping the remote control I have to unlock the door. _Please be quick._

"Hi." The door swings open. It's Serafina, the intern from hair and make up. "I just thought you might need a friend."

My lip trembles. "Hi."

"I brought some movies and stuff for nachos," she says.

"Um-" I'm suddenly not so opposed to having visitors.

Serafina sits on the bed and hugs me. "I know it's not exactly normal, but you really seemed down this morning."

I nod, pressing my palms into my eye sockets. Serafina sits on the edge of the bed. "Is this okay?"

In reply, I say, "Thanks. What movies you got?"

**Santana**

I don't get to sleep for ages. For one thing, my stomach feels like someone's trying to spin it with a fork. Or knife. Or sharper implement. For another, I simply can't get my mind off Quinn. What happened? What's wrong? Can we even do anything about it?

And after all that, I get woken up at about six am by screaming. I jump upright, grab my dressing robe and get downstairs.

The spare room. Rachel's already in there. "Guys?" I whisper.

Quinn is sitting on the bed, knees tucked up, hands clenched around the duvet.

"Bad dream," Rachel explains.

"Oh." I sit on the bed beside her. Rachel looks at me anxiously. The longer I spend around Quinn, the more damaged she seems.

I hand her a couple of tissues to mop herself up and she flinches away from me.

Rachel starts a low murmuring about how Quinn's safe and we're going to look after her and she doesn't have to worry about anything else now.

I go to rub her shoulders and she can't get away from me fast enough, pushing up against the wall with her arms wrapped around her knees.

"Don't touch me," she whispers, and Rachel looks at me, fingers twisting in her lap. I take over the role of comforting.

"Quinn, I'm not going to hurt you, okay?" I place my hands on the bed where she can see them. "I'm not going to touch you, okay?" I raise my hands again and put them in my lap. "But if you need a hug, just let us know. And we'll ask you if it's okay if we're going to touch you." I shoot Rachel a look, hoping she gets the message.

She looks absolutely heartbroken as Quinn nods and her hands fall onto the bed too.

Quinn seems to relax a little, pulling the covers around her.

"Do you want us to go?" Rachel asks.

Quinn nods, closing her eyes. I have to stop myself from reaching over and brushing her hair back. Rachel just gets up and gets out. I know how she feels. I feel sick every time Quinn shies away from my touch.

I breathe out quietly and follow her. She's in the kitchen, making tea with shaking hands.

"You okay?" I ask her, sitting up on the bench.

"I just-" she takes a deep breath. "I miss Quinn. She used to be so strong. What happened to her?"

I sip at my tea. She forgot the sugar and I refrain from pursing my lips. "I think it was a relationship."

"I will kill him." Her knuckles whiten around the cup.

"I'll hold him down," I say.

I'm mad. I'm so mad at whoever could have done this to our beautiful Quinn. If they ever show up, _ever,_ I'm going to beat them into a watermelon pulp.

"What can we do?" Rachel says.

I shrug. "We need to talk to Quinn. It's all we can do."

Rachel pinches her nose and huffs.

I just stare at the tea leaves in my cup and will them to show me some answers.

**Dani**

She's got _The Devil Wears Prada_ and we put it on. She pulls the duvet over me and makes us both sodas. She makes nachos while the opening song plays and I sing the words softly. In short, she acts like a great girlfriend. I feel almost guilty, but I just need it, for some reason.

"Here," she says. "Hey, Dani, it's okay. Santana's okay."

I nod, accepting the food. I'm starting to think that maybe Santana's mad at me. Even if she was feeling shitty, she'd still find time to text me, right? Right?

Serafina climbs under the duvet. "Stuff happens. She's not mad at you." She even seems to know what I'm thinking.

I have to focus on the movie so I don't cry.

She reaches into her bag. "I got some massage oil. Shoulders sore?"

I can't do anything but nod as she gently pulls off my shirt and slathers her hands in oil. I'm drained, and close to crying, and I succumb to her ministrations. It's so nice, having someone rub the tension out, that as Anne Hathaway gets eaten alive by Meryl Streep, I fall asleep.

**Santana**

Quinn gets up at around twelve, after Rachel's left for Funny Girl rehearsals. I've been for a run, trying to sort out my head and my cramps. I'm going to work the graveyard shift at the diner tonight - not my usual shift but someone swapped me for Monday night this week.

She comes into the kitchen. "Sorry about waking you all up," she says.

"It's okay," I say. "Do you want breakfast?"

Quinn looks surprised. "Is that...okay?" she sounds nervous.

"Yeah, of course. We've got, um, Rachel's weird 'healthy' granola, or bagels, or toast." I laugh and shake Rachel's bird-poop granola.

She doesn't say anything. I raise my eyebrows and when she shrugs, I pick toast.

"Toast?" I stick four slices in the toaster.

She leans against the counter, fingers twisted together.

"Quinn… What happened?" I have to ask her.

"I'm...I don't think I'm ready to talk about it," she says.

"That's okay," I say, grabbing two plates and smiling at her.

"Thanks."

While we're eating, I remember about messaging Dani back.

"Just put your plate in the dishwasher when you're done," I say, getting up and running up to my room. Shit. I wanted to call her today before her show.

Might as well just Skype her, I guess.

**Dani**

We both get woken up by the buzz of someone calling me. I blink. I've drooled on my cheek. I wipe it off accept the call.

"Hello?"

At the same time that Santana's face pops up on screen, I realise several things. One: we're on Skype and my camera's on. Two: I'm topless. Three: Serafina's sitting up behind me, asking who it is.

Fuck.

"Hey, Santana," I say, trying to drag the blankets over my chest without her noticing. I hope the picture is pixelated enough so that she doesn't see.

"Dani? What's going on?" she says. I can't tell whether she's referring to life in general or my state of partial nakedness. That's not a good sign.

"Um-"

"Dani?" I can tell now, that she's seen what's going on. "Who's that?" Her voice gets all funny and high-pitched.

"It's Sarah," I say. "From hair and make up?" I kick myself for using the shortened version of her name the second it comes out. "We were watching some movies."

"With nachos!" Serafina pipes up happily. I grit my teeth. Please, god, just let Santana believe-

"Can you go, please, Sarah?" I whisper. "I need to talk to Santana."

"_Topless?_" Santana's face is crumpling, inch by inch. My heart shatters.

"She gave me a massage," I say, perfectly aware how much of a liar I sound, how tinny my voice in my ears is, how my girlfriend has just jumped to all these conclusions and I just can't stop her. _Please, god-_

Santana gulps, fanning her face. "We've only been apart for two _days_!" Her short gasps of air are heart breaking.

"San, I swear, I haven't cheated on you," I say, hating myself for having to even say that.

"Don't call me that! I...fuck… Please, just- leave me alone!" Her words, interspersed with her sobs, cut me.

I'm left staring at a blank screen as her finger disconnects us.

**Santana**

I lean forward on the bed, hands pressed to my cheeks. _She cheated on me_. She _cheated _on me.

I think about yesterday, everything, the box in the mail, the shopping mall, the pool, tucking her in bed, having sex, watching her sing, sitting up until sunrise, kissing her over hot chocolate, and I scream soundlessly.

It wrenches out of me. I'm just hurting so much… I thought it was special… It _was_ special. I was so comfortable with her. She was so beautiful, so considerate, so-

She made me pancakes.

I sob, hands over my eyes. I want to kick things. I want to punch Dani. I want to hold her. I want her to dry my cheeks, which are slick with tears and burning up. I can't even sort out how I feel right now.

My phone chimes and I grab it, wanting to throw it across the room. I don't. I can't afford a new phone. I stick it on the table, going to grab something else to throw, but not before I see the preview of the message.

Dani - _God, Santana, I'm so sorry! Please belie…_

Against all my better judgements, I drop the fist-sized stuffed lion I'm holding and unlock my phone.

_God, Santana, I'm so sorry! Please believe me. I would never cheat on you, I would never hurt you. I just wanna hug you, reassure you. I promise that we did nothing, and I never would have. We watched a movie and she gave me a massage and then I fell asleep because I was tired. Nothing happened and I would _never_ let anything happen, either, because I never want to make you hurt, ever. I love you. _

I drop my phone. I press my fists into my gut to feel something, physical pain, anything but this whirlpool of emotions.

"Santana?" Quinn's at the door. "Are you okay?"

"No!" I sob, squeezing my fists harder into my gut.

"Here." Quinn sits down on the bed and offers me a tissue box. She puts an arm around me. "Dani?"

I nod, feeling pathetic.

Quinn rubs my shoulder. "It's okay, it's okay," she says, running her fingers through my hair and brushing it off my face. "You wanna tell me?"

And before I know it, Quinn has calmed me down.

"Tana," she says, using her special nickname for me, "You need to trust her. Just talk to her, please? I can see that, well, she's really special to you. So just hear her out, okay?"

I dab my eyes dry and pick up my phone.

**Dani**

"Sarah?" I open the door. She's standing outside, playing what looks like Angry Birds.

"You okay?" she says, shoving her phone in her pocket.

"I just-" I close my eyes briefly, trying to get myself under control. "She thinks I cheated on her."

Sarah winces. "Really?"

"I can't believe she doesn't trust me." I say this mostly to myself.

"I think I should go," she says. "I'll see you later."

"Okay. I'm sorry," I say.

Before she goes, she hugs me. "It's gonna be okay. I promise."

I wave half-heartedly. I already know that Santana will decline my calls, so I compose a text. That will have to be enough. I try to be as honest as I can. I just have to pray that she believes me. That she trusts me. I was such an idiot. I don't want to lose her.

Then I have an idea. I've been lying on my bed in misery for about ten minutes when it comes to me. Something to convince Santana that she is the most special thing to me.

I jump up and start scribbling.

**Santana**

"Tana?" Quinn knocks on the door. She tucked me up in bed and told me to sleep for a while and cool off.

"Yeah?" I say, sitting up.

"I think you should see this."

"What is it?"

She sits down on my bed and presses play on the YouTube video.

Dani. I close my eyes, but not before the image is seared in my brain. She's sitting at a piano, playing what I recognise as the intro to Nightingale because I can't block my ears.

When she starts singing, the lyrics are different. She stares into the camera as she sings, and by the time she's on the second verse, I'm in floods of tears again.

"Please, please, speak to me / Cause I'm feeling like hell / Need you to answer me / Know you're overwhelmed." Her voice spears me, knowing as I do that this whole song is devoted to me. To trying to get me back.

At the end, I sit back, so I barely hear her whisper. "I'm sorry."

Quinn slides the phone across to me. There's a Facebook status from Dani's official account attached to the video link.

_I'm so sorry. _

"Call her, Tana."

**Dani**

My phone buzzes half a million times after I upload the video. Eventually the little hope that one of them will be Santana flickers out and I mute the notifications.

I'm about to drive to the theater when my phone rings. I ignore it, squashing the faint shot of adrenaline I feel imagining actually being able to talk to Santana.

I've requested that Daya, the senior make up artist who does my make up, come straight to the venue and do my make up there, mostly so that I don't have to run into Sarah. I can't deal with that right now.

I check my phone as I run into the building. The lot is deserted, because I'm about two hours earlier than I would normally be and school is still in session, but I still want to be as fast as possible.

The call _was_ from Santana. I nearly stop dead, then buzz myself in and let myself have my relief attack in the elevator.

But should I call her back?

**Santana**

"She's ignoring me, see?" I wave my phone at Quinn, who's baking chocolate chip cookies. She seems to be coming out of her shell a bit, but I'm mostly distracted.

"Tana, your girlfriend is an internationally selling pop singer who's on tour. Don't you think that maybe she's just busy?"

I growl. "She's ignoring me! She hates me. I was such an idiot reacting like that. She-" Quinn puts a floury hand over my mouth.

"Give it an hour."

I spit the flour in the sink and lean back against the counter.

Then my phone vibrates. I throw myself at it. It's Dani.

"I'm sorry!" I say breathlessly, then realise that she said the same thing.

"I'm really so sorry, honeybun," Dani says.

Quinn points at me and mouths "I told you so!"

I give her the finger and go up to my room.

"I swear to god nothing happened," she says.

"I believe you. I'm sorry I reacted like that. I do trust you, honestly. Just…I'm tired and _hormones_ and everything." I breathe deeply.

"I'm sorry I was enough of an idiot to do that. That's pretty much the only thing I can say."

"We're good?" I say, heart in my mouth.

"We're good," she says.

"Thank god," I say.

"You okay?" She sounds concerned.

"Just recovering. I hated that."

"I'm sorry."

"You okay?"

"Dizzy from the amount of hairspray in this elevator," she laughs.

I giggle, falling back into the old pattern with her instantly.

"Where are you?"

"I'm going to my dressing room. I just got here. I'm not seeing Sarah."

"What do you look like?" I ask, imagining her wearing her performance outfit and ignoring the comment about Sarah.

"Like I just woke up."

"Feel like some morning sex?"

"It's mid-afternoon," she says.

"Make-up sex?"

"No kind of sex because I'm in an elevator and I'm about to get my make up done?"

"You're boring," I say, trying to fill my voices with poutiness.

"Later," she says, almost purring.

"I'll take you up on that…"

"Please do. Although I gotta go now. I love you, San! I'm sorry...about before."

"I love you too," I say, sighing. I'm starting to really hate this pop star thing.

"Bye, honeybun! I hope you're okay." She blows me a kiss and ends the call.

I feel like I should be more mad about the whole almost-cheating thing, but I just can't be. I'm finding that I actually trust her, and I just can't stay mad with her. It's too painful... because I just love her too much.

I, Santana Lopez, have fallen totally and completely in love.


	13. Chapter 13: Apart

**Author's notes: **Short chapter, but another is coming soon! Sorry for not updating yesterday. Hope you enjoy, review for free cookies :P

**Dani**

I'm Skyping Santana before I have to go to hair and make up for my signing. It's going to be hectic today because a Sunday and my final one for a whole week.

Thank god for that. I need a break.

"That song was really cute, you know," Santana says.

"I just wanted to show you how special you are to me," I say.

"I'm convinced," she laughs.

"I wish I could have cuddles right now."

"Yeah, me too." Santana sighs. "I'm starting to kind of hate this whole on-tour thing."

"You're telling me. I have the most fucked-up sleep schedule ever."

She yawns. "Ugh. I'm super tired too; I worked the graveyard shift yesterday as well as the day before. I've been trading shifts for next week."

I feel guilty that I've woken her up. "I'm sorry, hun. You can go back to sleep if you like?"

She smiles at me. I can see the bags under her eyes crease up. "I'm fine. I'll sleep after you've gone. How are you feeling?"

I think about it, rolling my emotions around so I can give her an honest answer. "A little bit guilty about making you so upset, but mostly just happy that I have you back. Plus I'm super excited about getting to see you tomorrow!"

Santana nods. "I can't wait. I have about a million ideas for things to do together!"

"Damn," I say, giggling. "You sure know how to court a girl."

"Looking forward to meeting Kurt and Rachel?" she asks, giving me the finger.

"I am so thrilled, and I get to meet Quinn now too." I blow her a kiss.

"How fun for you," she laughs, drawing a heart in the air with her fingers.

"How's Quinn doing?" I ask, getting serious

"She's alright. She came out of her shell a bit yesterday when I was crying. Gave me a hug and made some cookies. She still won't talk about what happened, though."

"Hmm. Do you think she might talk to someone she doesn't know?" I say, thinking of myself next week.

"You mean a psychiatrist? I don't think so."

"No, like me. Next week, if you think she'd be okay with it, I could talk to her," I offer.

"Oh." Santana nods. "You can give it a try. Be careful with her, though."

"I will. I'd better go, okay?" I say, glancing at the time. I've got to get to hair and make up.

"Okay, Dani. Bye, my darling! Text me later. I love you," she says, waving wildly at the camera.

"Bye, my lovely!" I wave too, blowing kisses.

She blows me a kiss back as I end the call. I huff a sigh. I hate not being able to see her; well, not being able to cuddle her, really. Not being able to feel her curves fitting against mine or the way she smells after she's had a shower. Her face when she looks at me and smiles. The taste of her lips after a sip of hot chocolate.

I stand up, knowing I'm going to get growled by Daya for being late.

**Santana**

I start planning our dates immediately. We're going to go a secluded beach I know and have a picnic, and swim. I'm hoping that it is secluded enough that we won't get interrupted by anyone, fan or paparazzi. I'm starting to understand the effect that the constant photographing and everything has on Dani sometimes, and I know that she'll enjoy going somewhere private.

I think for the other one I'm going to teach her to cook something that isn't pancakes, because, seriously…

I grab a pen to write all these down. Dani won't see this list, but I don't want to forget anything, because I want to make this perfect for her. I don't even know when I'm going to see her again after this week.

"Tana?" Quinn calls.

"Yeah?" I go to the door and look down the stairs.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?" Both Rachel and Kurt are at work until five pm. I couldn't get a shift today so I have to work tomorrow, but only for two hours so hopefully Dani will just get settled in with Quinn while I'm at work and I'll be home in time to make dinner with her.

"Sure," I say. "What are you watching?"

"I don't know. _Pitch Perfect_?"

"I'll be right down," I reply, grabbing some shorts to get dressed.

Quinn has started the movie and paused it when I get down to the lounge. There's a plate of cookies on the coffee table and a pile of pillows on the floor.

"Oh no," I groan. "Who showed you that we do that?"

"Kurt," she laughs, flicking me with the water on her fingers.

"Bitch!" I say, grabbing a cookie to throw at her.

"Don't-" she stops drying her hands, and I can see that her fingers are shaking. "Please."

"Oh, Quinnie. I'm so sorry." Damn. I didn't mean to make her have a panic attack. "You want a hug?"

She blinks, considering. "Can we try it? I might freak out though."

"Yeah," I say, stepping over to her. "Here." I put my arms around her shoulders gently, drawing her closer to me. She's kind of stiff, but she slowly relaxes until her hands come onto the small of my back. "Okay?"

"Yeah," she whispers against my t-shirt. "Okay."

"Wanna watch the movie?" I ask, when she pulls away.

"Yes, please."

**Dani**

When I hop into the chair for Daya to do my make up, I'm busy avoiding Sarah's eyes. Until she flops down onto the bench in front of the mirror. "I think you need to read this." There's a magazine folded open in her hand.

She hands it to me and I flatten it on my lap.

The article sucks. It has a picture of Santana and I singing in the car and one of us kissing over a table. I recognize both from our shopping date. I scan the article - it even has part of our conversation quoted, the part where I said that it was crazy that she hasn't been picked up yet. I don't think that's actually legal.

This is insane. I barely ever get this much attention from the press. Someone's stalking me. The quoting of our conversation is a definite invasion of my privacy. I need to make some calls.

"Can you hold on a second, Daya? Sorry, I'm just gonna call my attorney." I wave myself to the other end of the caravan and find the number in my phone.

"Hey, Damian? It's Dani."

"Hi, Dani. You want to get the articles suppressed? My receptionist showed me this morning." He sounds sympathetic.

"Yes please. And get a restraining order, or something, I don't know, on whoever is _stalking_ me and getting these quotes."

I hear a faint scribbling. "I'll see what I can do. Good luck, Dani."

"Thanks. I'll talk to you later. Update me if anything interesting comes up, yeah?"

"Sure thing, Dani. Bye!"

"Bye," I say, ending the call. Hopefully that'll get taken care of.

"Ready?" Daya's tapping a make up brush on the edge of a glass of water.

"Totally. Work your magic, Daya."

**Santana**

I wake up drooling on Quinn's shoulder, towards the end of the movie.

"Sorry, Quinnie. You okay?" I check, dragging the back of my hand across my cheek.

"Yeah, fine. You missed Fat Amy getting shot."

I mock-growl. "Damn, my favourite part."

Quinn giggles and leans back, returning her attention to the movie.

I doze through the rest of the movie, then remember something.

"Hey, Quinn, today's shopping day. Do you want to come with me?"

She smiles, turning off the TV. "Sure. I wanted to talk to you about, um, money, and rent and stuff. Can we sit down with Rachel and Kurt tonight?"

"Sure," I say. "Don't worry at all this week, okay? You're our friend and we're taking care of you."

"Thanks, Tana," she says, reaching over and hugging me. I'm taken by surprise - only two days ago she was freaking out at a touch. I guess there are stages of recovery.

"It's cool," I reply. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

We take the bus to the nearest large grocery store. "Okay, so on Saturday nights, we usually sit down after dinner and figure out what we need for the week. Rachel, Kurt and I all cook two nights per week and the seventh is a coin toss or take out. I've got the shopping list that Rachel wrote here." I pass the folded piece of paper to Quinn.

"Rachel still dots her _'i'_sand _'j'_s with hearts?" She laughs, pointing out the title.

"I didn't even notice," I giggle. "I guess she does."

"I love her, but Rachel can be a bit _too_ motivated, wouldn't you say?"

"You think?" I say, overtones of sarcasm hanging in my words.

"Just a bit. Oh, our stop." Quinn stands up. I'm surprised that she even remembered the name of where we were going. It took me at least four trips.

"Good memory," I say, standing up behind her.

"I learnt pretty quick," she says, mouth twisting sideways.

"Oh," I say, understanding. "Right."

"It's fine. So, ready?" she says. I glance at her face, but it's stony. Not a good time to broach the subject.

"Ready," I reply.

Quinn is fun. She laughs with me at stupid outfits and ridiculous brand names and does imitations of people we see.

"Can you text Rachel and Kurt and see if there's anything last minute?" I ask.

She winces. "I don't actually have a-"

"Don't worry, silly. Use mine," I say, passing mine to her.

"Thanks," she says, unlocking it and beginning to tap out a message.

"No problem." I grab a bag of chocolate chips. "You like baking?"

She grins. "It was a refuge, I guess. But these are yuck ones. They don't melt properly." She picks out a different brand and adds it to the shopping cart.

"Right. Thanks for setting the record straight," I laugh.

"Straight? With you?" She dodges across the aisle.

"Why does everyone keep _making _those jokes?" I demand, pretending to throw a jar of cinnamon in her direction.

"We need vanilla essence," she says, cautiously approaching and laughing as I try to shove the cinnamon back on the shelf.

"Okay. Put it in."

"I think I'll make cupcakes tomorrow. Do you think Dani would like that?"

"I think Dani's going to love you, whatever baked goods you offer her," I say, imagining the two of them in the same room. Quinn and Dani would get on like a house on fire, from what I can picture.

"Good," she says, dropping the vanilla essence in the cart.

"You guys will get on fine, Quinn," I promise.

"Thanks," she says, half-smiling.

"You're welcome."

**Dani**

The signing is hectic, as estimated. I sign as fast as I can for the first half-hour, then slow up a bit to give my hand a rest.

There's another tearful girl who's telling me her story about _Skyscraper._ "I just, I heard it on the radio, and I was on the bus to the chemist to buy something to overdose on, and I just- couldn't."

I smile, holding out a pen. "I'm so happy. That just made everything I've been through absolutely worth it, saving someone's life. Here, I'll give you a tattoo like mine, if you like."

The girl offers her upper wrist, so I draw a little flower and the words "Stay Strong".

"Thank you so much," she murmurs, squeezing my hand.

"You're so, so welcome," I reply.

She moves on, leaving me with a couple of five year olds. I obligingly sign their posters.

I miss Santana's comments, the way that I always know that she's on my side. On my break, I grab my phone and text her my flight details, telling her that she can pick me up or I can get a cab and that it doesn't fuss me either way.

She texts back immediately.

Santana - _Don't be an egg pancake, of course I'll meet you, although I have to work 2pm-4pm, so I'm leaving you with Quinn to look after, but that's the only time I have to work this week because I've been desperately swapping shifts. I can't wait to see you, hun, I miss you so much x_

I smile and text her that it's okay and that I can't wait either, and I have to get back. _I love you._

Santana - _I love you too, my honeybun. Good luck x_


	14. Chapter 14: Together

**Author's notes: Sorry, another short one! The next one should be up soon though and it's quite a long one, so enjoy :)**

**Dani**

I step off the plane, scanning the all the waiting people for Santana. She's leaning by the luggage rack, flicking through her phone.

I'm a couple of yards away when she spots me. She runs to me, throwing her arms around me. "Dani!"

"Santana!" I kiss her on the lips, holding the back of her head and inhaling her scent. "I've missed you so freakin' much!"

"I missed you too, hun. Nice hair..." She grins, twirling a strand of it around her finger.

I giggle. My hair is a lurid blue. "I felt like a change. Let's get out of here, okay?"

"Yes, please. It smells like old socks and disinfectant," she says, screwing up her nose.

"Yeah, it kinda does." I laugh at her description, because Santana is always so blunt.

"Your bags?"

"Oh yeah." I remember. My suitcase is swirly turquoise and has a PO Box address without a name tied to it.

"Come on."

In the cab on the way home, I hold Santana's hand, sighing with relief just to be here with her.

"Rachel? Kurt? Quinn?" Santana opens the door and yells for her roommates.

"Tana?" Quinn emerges from what I guess, from her floury hands, is the kitchen. "Hey! You must be Dani," she says, stepping closer. "I'm baking cupcakes for you."

"Hi. Quinn?" I guess, remembering that Quinn is the blonde one.

"Yeah. Nice to meet you. I would shake hands, but, um…" She waves her floury hands in the air. "Maybe not such a good idea."

"No," I agree. "Nice to meet you, too."

Kurt and Rachel come from the other direction, along with an outpouring of chatter. "Hi! I'm Kurt Hummel, and I am a massive fan, although I have to say, some of your outfit choices recently have been a bit-"

"_Kurt!_" Santana snaps. "Seriously, guys, while Dani's here, she's a _person_, okay? She's not a superstar, she's not a hot commodity. She's a person, with feelings. Feelings for me, in fact."

I blush, looking at my feet. I really appreciate Santana's sticking up for me, but it makes me feel awkward.

"Of course." Kurt stretches out a hand. "I'm so sorry. I'm Kurt, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Dani."

I smile. "You too, Kurt." I turn to Rachel. "Hi. You must be Rachel." I shake her hand too, starting to feel a tiny bit inadequate in this house of skinny girls.

"That's me. Rachel Berry, star of _Funny Girl!_"

I laugh, glad that someone else can boast of their achievements. I think I'm going to fit in just fine.

Santana guides me up to her room and shows me where to unpack while she changes into her uniform. "I'm sorry, hun, I've got to run. You can unpack and help Quinn downstairs, if you like. I'll be back in two hours, okay? Love you."

I kiss her, enjoying the feel of her in my arms.

**Santana**

Dani is curled into a little ball on the bed when I get home.

I take a breath to call out then remember she's probably sleeping.

Poor baby, I'm guessing this is the first time she's had her period in at least two months, knowing her schedule as I do. She's got a week's reprieve with me though, and for some unknown reason, she took the sugar pills. She reckoned that her withdrawal bleed on the pill barely lasted two days, so it'd be fine. "We can have sex after that."

"Why would you do that to yourself, honeybun?" I demanded.

"It's just...better for you, you know?"

I wanted to argue that that meant no sex, at least for a few days, and she'd be grumpy, but I didn't. I just put my arms around her and kissed her forehead and said "Okay, my darling. I'll be back just after three, okay? You know where everything you need is?"

"Yeah," she nodded, waving me out the door.

"Hey, honeybun," I whisper, sitting on the end of the bed. She doesn't bat an eyelash, so I kiss her forehead gently and put the stuff I brought home for her under the bedside table. Shower time, so I can wash off all the dirt from my shift at the diner, then I'll make us some dinner.

While I'm drying my hair at my dresser, I see movement on the bed.

"Hun?" I say, turning around. Dani has her head dangled over a trash can and she's in the process of vomiting up what looks like everything she's eaten today. "Oh baby," I say, dropping the blow-drier and rushing to her. I gather up her hair in one hand and rub her back with the other. When she's finished, she flops against me.

"I'd forgotten how shitty I feel," she murmurs, kind of smiling.

"You sick? Or just your period?" I ask, rubbing her shoulder and carefully directing her breath away from my face.

"Just my period. It's come back with a vengeance." She's laughing a little bit now, which I take as a good sign.

"Okay," I say, kissing her forehead again. "Do you wanna have a shower?"

"It's too hard," she says.

"That's okay. Wanna brush your teeth?" I help her stand up, making sure she's not going to pass out on me.

"I'm alright," she rolls her eyes at me. "I'm not an invalid."

"Okay, okay." I laugh and while she's brushing her teeth, I get her pyjamas out. I've never seen her wear these, but I can tell she brought them for comfort: they're faded grey, the elastic's stretched out and they have little pink bows on them. I grab some comfortable undies and a pad from the pack in her bag and put them on the bench in the bathroom beside her.

As she spits and rinses, I put my arms around her from behind and rub her tummy gently. "What do you feel like eating?"

"Nothing really...I don't think I could keep anything down right now. Maybe some crackers with painkillers." She pulls away and starts getting changed.

"Okay, hun. I'm gonna go make myself some toast then. What do you want to take?" She's a fairly pitiful sight, half-dressed in pyjamas.

"Ponstel?"

"Okay. Just hop in bed, okay? I'll be up in a minute."

Poor Dani. I know how she feels. On my way downstairs, I dump the trash can in the laundry sink. I'll deal with it later.

There's only two pieces of toast left, so I toast them, scribble the word on my shopping list and start making a tray for Dani. I put a bottle of water to chill in the fridge. Then I break off two Ponstel and put them on a napkin, along with two water crackers. Finally, I grab a bag of chips and some cordial mix, and make a cup of tea, exactly the way she likes it.

Hot water bottle. That's what I've forgotten. There's one in the spare bedroom, because I don't know where mine is. "Sorry, Quinn. Dani's time of the month," I explain.

She waves a hand. "I know. I went to see if she wanted to bake and I saw how she was lying. Can I do anything?"

I go to say no, then change my mind. "If you're up to it, go to the laundry… If you don't wanna do it, I'll do it later."

"She threw up?"

"Yeah."

"Bad one, huh? Poor Dani. I got it, Tana," she says, sitting up. "It's okay. You look after her."

I smile and hug Quinn. "Thanks so much."

I fill up the hot water bottle with the leftover water from the tea.

"Hey, hun." I open the door with the tray balanced on one arm, my toast on the other, and the hot water bottle under my arm.

"Hi," she whispers from the bed.

I put down my toast first and then give her the hot water bottle. "I got you your Ponstel. Hopefully it'll kick in soon, hmm?" I kiss her forehead. "The chips and cordial are for when you're feeling better because you're probably a bit dehydrated, what with the puking your guts out and all," I say in a rush, nervous at the effort I've gone to.

"Oh...Thank you, San," she says, and then she's crying, big fat sobs that twist her mouth up. I immediately get my arms around her, snuggling her head onto my shoulder and patting her back. "I'm sorry," she manages. "I'm just a bit...you know." She waves a hand and grabs a tissue to wipe her face with.

I dash away some tears with my thumb, nodding. "It's fine, hun. You okay?"

"Ish," she says, smiling through her tears.

"Comfy?"

"Yeah," she says.

"I got you some things today. I thought it might cheer you up. I got sushi, but that's in the fridge for when you're hungry, okay? And I got mint chocolate chip ice-cream, same deal, and some juice too. And there's some DVDs…" Piling the selection I got on to the bed, I laugh. "Maybe a little excessive." There's about ten.

"Just a bit," she agrees.

"I even remembered that you wanted to watch _Imogene_."

"You're the best." She hugs me.

"And I got...um, these are slightly ridiculous." I say.

"Tell me!" she demands.

"Well...this." I pass her a teddy bear. It has blue fur, to match her hair.

"Oh," she giggles. "Thank you."

"And I've got the massage balm that you gave me too, and it smells really nice, so I can do your shoulders and everything." I look down, shy about how much I've tried, because I love Dani, I really really do.

"Hey, it's okay. This is amazing. I love you," she says.

"I love you too."

I snuggle up to her, holding the hot water bottle on her tummy. She sighs and shifts closer to me, so I can squeeze it gently against her stomach. "Okay?"

"It's great, Santana. Thank you so much."


	15. Chapter 15: Torture

**Author's notes: **Sorry I didn't update yesterday... these longer chapters take a while to marinade and write. Plus I got my exam results back and did AWESOME so I couldn't write for a bit after that...

**Dani**

The smell of waffles permeates my sleeping brain. I blink and awaken to focus on Santana's grinning face. She's sitting on the edge of the bed, with a tray of food.

"Morning, my gorgeous girl," she says, leaning forward and kissing my forehead. "I thought you might like breakfast in bed."

I smile, still only half-awake. "Thanks. You're so cute." I push myself up so I can sit with the tray on my lap. Santana really _is_ so cute… She's got waffles with toppings, juice, some Advil and a little glass of flowers.

"I try for you," she admits, looking down. "Is there anything else you want?"

"I want you to come and snuggle with me, silly," I say, unable to get the damn smile she's put on my face off.

"I'll just get mine, okay?" She disappears downstairs briefly and returns with her own breakfast.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, putting a hand to my forehead like she's feeling for a temperature.

"I feel okay today. My tummy's not really sore and I'm definitely hungry, so that's a good sign, right?" I kiss her on the lips, accentuating my words.

"Yeah, it is. I had a date planned for today, do you think you'll be up for it?" She slides under the duvet and kisses my bare shoulder.

"Does it involve too much walking?"

Santana thinks. "A bit. Not much. Shopping-style walking? We'll only be going to a few shops, though."

I smile. "I'm totally up for that. Where are we going?"

"Well, I figured that you needed to learn to cook something other pancakes," Santana says, trying hard not to laugh at me.

"Pancakes _and_ omelettes!" I protest.

"Whatever," she laughs outright. "We're gonna go find a three course meal in a recipe book and get it and then get whatever we need for it and then you're going to learn how to cook it."

"Santana, is the word 'date' synonymous with 'torture' for you?"

"Cooking isn't torture. It's fun. I promise, it'll be fun. Trust me?" And she pulls out the big guns; her puppy dog eyes.

"Fine…" I surrender. "I take no responsibility if I blow up your kitchen or give you food poisoning."

"Between me and Quinn, you'll be fine."

"Quinn?" She's inviting Quinn along? I thought we were going on a date. I silently sigh.

"I figured that if I just can't help you, maybe she can." She pats my shoulder. "Don't worry, Dani, she's not going to be there. Well, she'll be around the house while we're cooking, but not _with_ us."

"Oh. Sorry, I just…" I press my hands into my face, blushing.

"It's okay. Don't be silly, I'm not the kind of person who invites third-wheelers, egg." Santana leans over and kisses my forehead again. "We're gonna have lots of fun."

"Okay. I'm trusting you with my life, and probably Kurt, Rachel and Quinn's too," I joke.

"I'll protect them with my own," she giggles. "Shower?"

"Sure. Your yum waffles gave me sticky hands. Thank you, San. You're the best."

She shows me where the towels are, and the bathroom, and how the shower works.

"Thank you," I say, kissing her quickly. "I won't be too long."

**Santana**

Dani and I both shower and get dressed. Dani dresses in clothes that mostly obscure her face and makes herself up much lighter than she usually does in public, I guess to reduce the risk of being recognised. I dress in high-waisted shorts and a loose striped top, knowing that the outfit just enhances my curves in all the right places.

"Ready, Dani?" I say, peering into the bathroom. She's standing, looking in the mirror at herself.

I step behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. "Hey, hun?"

"Mmm?" she says, glancing, for only an instant, at me, then back to analysing her body. The little tremble in her lip belies her thoughts.

"Dani, you are gorgeous. You make my heart beat slower and faster at the same time. You're so, so beautiful." I inject as much emotion into my speech as possible, because I mean every _single_ word. Dani is always beautiful to me, even if she doesn't have a thigh gap and she has little scars on her wrists under her tattoos and when I rub her tummy to ease her cramps, I don't feel hard muscle. Whenever I'm with her, I just want to be close to her, and at the same time, I want to protect her, and I just… I'm in love. The way she looks is that last thing that matters to me, even though I don't think she knows that.

Dani sighs. "Sometimes, I just can't see it. And other times I can see why millions of girls want to be me. Right now I'm definitely in the midst of the first one."

I kiss her shoulder, spreading my hands on her tummy. I can feel the way she flinches away from my touch, like she needs to cover herself.

"I promise you, you're beautiful. Every single inch of you is gorgeous, and I'm just so in love with you. You're everything I could ever want. You're so strong," I say, running my fingers over the tattoos on her wrists and then over her arms. "You got through some awful stuff, okay? And you're still here. You've got me to look after you. Just think about what you can do on stage, all those dances. You're so fit, and you're an amazing singer to boot." I drop my head to her shoulder and kiss it again. "I don't know how else to convince you, because in my mind, there's no doubt that you're beautiful."

She's crying now. It looks like her eyes have just spilled down her cheeks without any conscious effort and she looks so vulnerable, it rips my heart out. I pull her into a hug, face leaning on my shoulder. She sniffles quietly. I kiss her hair above her ear and hold her tightly.

"Sorry," she sniffs. "Just...hormones, you know?"

I nod soothingly. "It's okay, I got you, hun. You okay?" Dani leans back against the sink.

"Yeah. Just need a moment. Dammit, I messed up all my mascara." She dabs with a tissue under her eyes, trying to catch the run-off.

"We can go whenever you're ready, okay?" I'm trying to show her how much I love her and how much I want her to be okay, and just everything I'm feeling in one smile and I don't think it's working too well.

"I'm good," she says, pressing a wet tissue over her cheeks. "I'm better now. I just… yeah."

"It's okay, Dani. Honestly." I press a kiss on her cheekbone. "I love you."

"I love you too."

**Dani**

Santana stays quiet on the bus ride to the mall, which I am eternally grateful for. I don't want to try and explain my complicated body image to her on public transport. Or, if I'm honest, I don't wanna do it at all. Maybe, one night, in the dark, I might try. Maybe.

Her hand slides into mine, squeezing it gently, reminding me that she's there. I sigh and lean against her shoulder, glad that I have her next to me to reassure me.

"We're here," she says, standing up. We get off the bus and she puts her arm around my waist. "Dani, I love you," she whispers.

I smile and kiss the top of her head in response.

"You okay, honeybun?" she checks.

"Yeah," I say, totally fine now that there's no mirrors in sight. "So where are we going?"

"Well, first, to Barnes and Noble, then to Walmart, then we're going home and you're going to learn how to cook."

"I wish you the best of luck in this endeavour."

**Santana**

"How about this one?" I hold up yet another cooking book.

"It looks like someone died for it," Dani grumps, sitting on a padded stool.

"Someone is going to die soon, and trust me, it's not going to be the author." I growl and flop down beside her. "What's your favourite food, after sushi?"

Dani grins. "Pizza."

I blink. It's a couple of hours before lunch. We'd probably have time to make the dough… "Okay. Let's find a recipe for pizza."

"Pizza can't be that hard. It's just tomato, topping, and cheese."

"We'll make the base too. We just need a recipe."

Dani hops up, starting to flick through the shelves. "Here." She passes me a book. I flick through it. It's, apparently, a cookbook devoted to 'those basic recipes that _everyone_ needs to know.'

It has the two things we need: a recipe for pizza base and instructions on topping it. I flick through the rest of a book and find a bonus - directions on how to make a pie and some cocktails we can make.

"Dani?" I show her the recipes. She grins wider.

"You know, this might actually kind of be a fun date." She hugs me, squashing the open book between our stomachs, where it kind of pokes into me.

"I told you so," I laugh in her ear, pulling the book away. "I. Told. You. So."

"Don't be that person. Just don't." Dani swats me and takes the book. "I'm paying for it all, okay? Since you're having me to stay for a week and everything."

I shrug. "I'm not going to argue," I say, kissing her on the forehead.

"I figured. Now, where's Walmart?" She pays for the book, chatting to me all the while.

"Just over there. You wanna get a smoothie on the way?"

"Sure," Dani says, putting the book in her backpack.

"Come on, then." I take her hand and kiss it slowly, lingering my lips on it. "I think this will be very romantic."

"Is that so, Mr. Darcy?"

"Do I look like Colin Firth to you?" Santana rolls her eyes.

"Would you be offended if I said 'yes'?" I squint at her, equating Colin Firth to her.

"Not really. He's kind of effeminately hunky."

"You have a point," I say, shrugging.

"Which smoothie do you want?" Santana's glancing at the board.

"Um… Mango and pineapple, please," I say to the guy taking orders.

"I'll have the banana and mango, please." She orders hers and as she's fumbling around for her EFTPOS card, I roll my eyes and wave my card.

"I got it, hun. Let's go sit down and make a shopping list."

"Dani, you can't just-" she waves a hand in the direction of my expenses card.

"Come on!" I grab her wrist in one hand and the smoothies in the other and pull her gently away from the line of customers to a couch. "You wanna sit here?"

She sits down and flips me off. "Okay, pass me the book."

As she flicks through to the recipe for pizza dough, I sip at my smoothie. "So what are we gonna put on it?"

"Rachel's vegan. Or, wait, I think she's vegetarian now. Yeah, so we need a vegetarian one but I think we can still use cheese on it. Text her and ask her," Santana says, sliding her phone to me.

"Okay," I say.

"And can you text Quinn and ask her if we have yeast?" Santana sips from her smoothie, then leans over and kisses me quickly. "Thanks, hun."

"Sure." I use Santana's phone to text both of the girls, then sit closer to her, looking at what she's writing. She's got the ingredients for the pizza dough, the ingredients for the pie and the juices for the cocktails.

"So," she says, looking up at me. "What kind of a pie do you want to make?"

I laugh. "I have no idea. What's your favourite?"

Santana shrugs. "I guess we can see what's there, but I think we should make a berry pie."

"Okay," I agree. "I have no idea what's going on here, so that's totally cool. Ooh, Rachel texted."

Rachel - _Yeah haha, I'm vegetarian now so cheese is fine :) just avoid mushrooms… 3_

I relay the message to Santana, who nods. "Yeah, I already knew that. We've got two options then," she says, showing me the vegetarian topping page.

"_Brie and olive,_" I read off. "Or Moroccan_. _Why don't we just make both? The dough supposedly makes like, eight pizzas or something."

Santana shrugs. "Okay. Rachel will love you. She always gets stuck with one vegetarian option."

I smile. "What about the other six?"

Santana blinks. "We're not _actually_ going to attempt eight pizzas, are we?"

"Why not? I'm pretty sure that if we don't eat them all, then we can eat them for lunch tomorrow, right?" I kiss her ear, smiling.

"Alright," she laughs. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"Hush," I say. "Now, what are we going to do about the other six?"

She smiles. "Text Kurt and Quinn and ask them what their favourite toppings are. You pick one, I pick one and then we use our fingers to choose the last two-" Her hand flies to her mouth as she giggles. "That came out dirtier than I intended."

"Just a bit," I agree. I text Kurt and Quinn. "So what's your favourite?"

She just smiles mysteriously and writes some ingredients onto the list. "Yours?"

I take the book from her and look at the recipes listed. "How about the chicken one?" I suggest, pointing to the recipe. Santana adds the ingredients to her list, making exact notes of the quantities.

Her phone buzzes and I check it. Both Kurt and Quinn have replied.

Kurt - _Mediterranean, if you guys are up for that. Have fun San, I'm going to work soon so don't be too messy haha._

Quinn - _Hawaiian? That's pretty easy right? Love you guys :)_

"Hawaiian and Mediterranean," I inform Santana. She adds the ingredients for those, too.

"This is getting to be a pretty long list," she laughs. "Are you sure you're up for buying all this?"

I swat at her. "I literally have a million dollar expenses account. It's _totally_ fine."

"Alright, alright. I was just checking. Okay, now close your eyes," Santana says, putting her hands over my eyes. "Put your finger on the page."

I waggle it like a magician and put it down.

"No!" she yells. "You suck, Dani. Do it again."

"What is it?" I open my eyes. "Oh..._shrimp._"

"Shrimp! That's just kinda gross," she declares.

"We entered into a binding magical contract, Santana Lopez." I wave my hands mysteriously. "We must make the shrimp pizza."

"You're kidding," she says, hitting me. "Try again."

"Fine…" Before I do, I glance down at the page. I do jazz fingers and stick my finger down. "Shrimp! See, it's trying to tell us something."

Santana groans. "That is gross! We're not making that."

I snatch her notepad, holding it out of her reach. "We will make the shrimp pizza!" I quickly scrawl 'shrimp'.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Okay, my go. I'm going to pick something good."

"Dah dah duh!" I drum roll for her on my knees.

"_Bacon and zucchini._" She sighs. "It's not as bad as shrimp, but still…"

"It'll be fine. We can always feed it to Kurt in his sleep," I suggest. She laughs a bit at that.

"Okay. You done?"

I swallow down the last of my smoothie. "Yup. Ready?"

"If you're ready, come and get it, na na na…" she giggles and looks at me, where I'm not laughing. "Not funny?"

I crack a smile for her. It's funny for a different reason. "I recorded the back up vocals on that song."

"You're kidding," she says. I raise my eyebrows. "Oh...not kidding. You're not kidding."

"Not kidding. And it was kinda funny. Just a bit." I grab her hand and kiss it. "Come on. Let's go shopping."

**Santana**

"Okay… let's just go through the list," Dani says. "First we need to get the ingredients for the pastry and the pizza base, right?"

I've organised the list into four parts: the pizza dough, the pizza toppings, the pie and the cocktails. Mocktails, I suppose, because Kurt and I would be the only ones interested in alcohol.

"Yeah," I say. "We need...white bread flour for the dough and plain flour for the pie crust. We probably have the plain flour at home, though."

Dani shrugs. "Quinn bakes, right? Might as well top up. And we need icing sugar too, don't we?"

"And caster sugar," I say.

"How many different kinds of sugar can there be?" She rolls her eyes and grabs a couple of bags off the shelf.

"You would be truly amazed," I say, hefting a bag of each kind of flour into the shopping cart. "And we need cornflour."

She checks the list. "We need olive oil?"

"I don't know," I say. "Might have some at home, but then we might not."

Dani picks up a bottle and adds it to the cart. "Now the fun part."

"Really?" I say. "I thought that was tonight." I put my arms around her waist and kiss her neck, chuckling.

"That too," she giggles, pushing me away. "I meant getting the topping stuff."

"And the berries," I add. She pushes the shopping cart past a few aisles, then stops in front of the fresh fruit.

"Which ones?" she asks, indicating the array of berries in front of us.

"All of them. It's a mixed berry pie."

"So I can just…" She grabs a scoop and scoops about half a cup of blueberries into a punnet.

"Yeah, go for your life," I say, following suit with a cup of strawberries.

As I click the lid down, something hits me on the shoulder. I glance down to see a blueberry bouncing on the floor. I glance up to see Dani in a posed stance. "Wasn't me," she claims, trying to keep herself from smiling.

"Who was it, then? Casper the friendly ghost?" I roll my eyes and throw a raspberry underarm to her.

"Can Casper aim this well?" She throws it back at me.

I dodge. "I hope not, else he's not very friendly."

"You're such an-"

"Hey! What are you two doing?" A middle-aged guy in a Walmart smock spots us and waddles over.

"Um-" I go to explain.

Dani takes over. "I'm so sorry, we just got a little bit carried away…" she explains.

After a few apologies on both of our behalfs and a twenty slipped to the guy, we're back to our shopping.

We make our way through the supermarket, making categories of topping - there's the cheeses and the herbs and the meats (Dani: "So do you like, uh…_sausages_, San?") and the vegetables.

The vegetables mostly goes along the lines of "This is way too healthy!"

"Who heard of putting salad on a pizza?" Dani demands. "And _what_ is that?" she adds, pointing to the zucchini.

"That's my replacement dildo," I say, putting two small ones in the shopping cart.

"Right… That makes sense. So why do you need two?" she giggles.

"One for me… and one for you," I say, bopping her on the nose with one.

"That is not going inside my vajayjay-" She covers her mouth. "That was really loud, wasn't it?"

I screw up my nose and nod. "Yeah. Let's move on."

Dani laughs. "What's next?"

"Uh… Capers and olives and stuff… Just some like flavouring-type things," I answer.

"What even are capers?"

"Jesu Christi, you have not lived!" I drag her down the aisle to the capers and pick the biggest jar I can find. Capers are literally my favourite thing.

"Okay…" She gets two different kinds of olives and the sun-dried tomatoes. "We done?"

I put a bag of cranberries in the cart. "Now we are."

As Dani starts scanning everything, I remember. "Hey, what about the mocktail stuff?"

"Hurry up!" She hits my butt, pointing to the refrigerated section.

I scan the list - orange juice, pomegranate juice, cranberry juice. I scoop up all of them and add a watermelon on top.

"Here you go," I say.

"Thanks," she laughs, scanning each of the bottles through.

"Ready for the rest of the date?"

"This was totally fun...maybe I'll trust you more often." She winks at me.

"Egg," I say. "Pancake."

**Author's notes:** So...what did they forget? ;)


	16. Chapter 16: Success

**Author's notes:** Sorry guys! I know that was a long wait, I've had school camp and everything. I just went back to school for the year so the updates will probably be slower now... But enjoy anyway!

**Dani**

"Pass me the olive oil?" Santana says. I have to read the label of a couple of bottles and jars before I manage to find it. "Actually, just put four tablespoons in the jug," she decides.

The olive oil sits on top of the yeast, sugar and water. It's frothy and gross. "This looks like cat vomit," I declare. "How is this going to make a yum pizza?"

She smiles. "You'll see. Okay, now we leave it for a few minutes before we mix it with the flour. You want a drink?"

"Please." I experimentally stick a spoon into it and swirl it around a bit. The mixture spits like a camel.

"Hey, guys." It's Quinn. She gets a glass from the cupboard and puts it next to ours as Santana pours orange juice.

"Hi," Santana says. "You want lunch? Sorry, we kinda took up the whole kitchen…" Every surface is taken up by either ingredients or flour.

"Don't worry, I'll use the table," she says. "Do you guys want me to make you a sandwich?"

"Yes, please," Santana replies, swishing the spoon through the yeast mixture. It hisses.

"Okay… Pastrami?"

"Sure. Thanks, Quinn."

"Okay, here we go…" Santana picks up the jug, preparing to pour it into the flour. "Ready?"

I laugh and position myself to the side, armed with forks. "Go on." She pours the mixture into the well in the flour. Some of it falls onto the top of the mixture, breaking into little clumps.

"God… that looks even more like cat vomit now."

"Yum," she replies. "Now we get to mix this up."

I stick mine in, flicking it around a bit. Santana swirls hers. "This looks even more like cat vomit than before."

"Shh!" Santana flicks a bit of flour at me. I knock her fork back with mine. She scoops flour over my fork and suddenly the liquid starts spilling over the edges. "No!" She grabs a cup and sticks it under the drip. "Grab a mixing bowl, quick."

"Where are they?" I yell, opening cupboards at random. Plates, cutlery, cups. No bowls.

"I'll do it." Quinn opens the cupboard next to mine, grabs a Pyrex mixing bowl and passes it to Santana.

"Sorry," I laugh.

"Here, help me get it all into there," Santana says, sweeping a mixture of dry flour and gross liquid into the bowl.

"You're right," she says. "Definitely cat vomit. Quinn, can you grab the mixer?"

She rinses her hands and obliges, plugging it in. "You wanna do it, Dani?"

I take the lethal-looking implement, and experimentally move the switch. The blades whirr and flour puffs around my hands, collecting on the floor like snow. "Damn. Okay." I lower it into the bowl fully and flick it on again. Slowly, the dough collects together and forms a single entity, but not without a bit - well, a lot - of flour getting whizzed out of the bowl.

"Dani, this isn't an exercise in snowfighting!" Santana concaves her body away from the puffs of flour and rolls her eyes, grinning at me. "That's enough. Now we get to knead it." She flips it onto the bench again, which Quinn has covered in flour.

"Who, me?" I blink at her. "How do you knead?"

"Oh wow…" she laughs. "You're funny." She puts her arms around me from behind and kisses my shoulder. "Here."

I watch as she pats her hands in flour and pushes down on the dough, flipping it over and folding it. Lather, rinse, repeat. "It's easy. You just push and flip."

I try, finding that it's actually quite easy. It relaxes me.

"When you're done, here's lunch," Quinn calls from the table.

"I'm done," I say. "Now we leave it?"

"I got it," Santana replies, rolling the dough back into the bowl and laying a tea towel over it.

"Lunchtime," I say.

**Santana**

After a quick lunch with Quinn, talking about our favorite movies - she hasn't seen anything made in the last _year,_ so we've agreed that we definitely need to have a marathon and catch her up - Dani and I get back in the kitchen. We make the pastry for the pie.

Now that Dani can use an electric beater without making the kitchen look like Times Square in winter, she finds the pastry relatively easy, so I can sit my butt on the bench and eat pretzels while I watch her. She measures out the flour, sugar and butter and we narrowly avoid disaster with the salt bowl, which, somewhat short-sightedly, lives next to the sugar container. Dani must have misread the recipe, because it calls for icing sugar, but-

"These are not the droids you're looking for!" I yell as she dips her spoon into the salt. "That means _NO_, DANI!" I jump down and get between her and the pastry bowl. "That's salt. The icing sugar, which is what you're looking for, is over on that bench."

"Salt?" She sniffs the spoon. "Oh. Whoops." She dumps it back in the bowl and laughs. "Which one?"

I pass her the bag.

"This isn't sugar. This is flour."

I suppress my laughter. "No, it's icing sugar. It's just ground up super, super fine like flour, so you don't get crunchy bits in your baking. And pastry needs to be smooth, so you need the icing sugar."

"Oh…" She picks up the icing sugar bag. "I get it!"

I return to the bench and the half-empty bag of pretzels.

"It's all weird. It looks like little hairballs," she declares a few minutes later.

"It's supposed to be like that," I say, swallowing a sharp bit of pretzel and coughing. "Ugh. Now you need egg yolk and water, I think."

"Egg yolk? You can get eggs in separate bits? I thought that was a two-for-one deal."

I laugh. "You're so funny. I love you."

"I love you too. So, egg yolk?"

"You need to separate it." I slide down, grabbing two bowls from the cupboard. "Pass me the egg."

"Here."

I crack it open on one of the bowls, then I separate the shell. The white runs off into the bowl, and I pass the yolk a few times from side to side to get rid of as much as possible.

"See?" I tip the yolk into the bowl and throw the shell into the compost.

"Huh. It's like when you have those deals at Walmart - 'two loaves of bread for five dollars' but you really only need one loaf."

I have to laugh at that. "Alright. Anyway, you're almost done."

"Yay…" Dani adds the water, whizzes it together and wraps it in clingfilm. "Fridge time!"

My phone starts playing _Neon Lights_ from the table.

Damn. That's embarrassing. I answer the call, flipping off my girlfriend as she laughs at me.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Santana. It's Kurt." Like I wouldn't know that poncy voice anywhere.

"I know…" I hear him laughing.

"Can I bring Blaine over for dinner? You guys are making pizza, right? There should be enough, right?"

"Sure… We're making eight pizzas, so I don't think even Blaine will be able to finish them all off."

"Wow… Have fun, San. Thank you! I'll be back in about two hours."

"Okay. See you...and loverboy."

"Bye!" Kurt ends the call.

"Who was that?" Dani asks.

"Lady Hummel. Blaine is coming around for dinner, so we're not going to be quite so overwhelmed by pizza."

"I get to meet Blaine too! This is turning out to be a very exciting week."

"It's only been two days," I giggle.

"What's next? A planetary invasion?" She puts her arms around my neck and kisses me.

All the thoughts go out of my head as I kiss her back.

"You're amazing," she whispers as she pulls away.

"You can kind of cook now, so… I know."

She hits my shoulder. "Hush."

"I don't think I will."

"I think I could make you…" Her lips trail down to my neck and I push her off, smiling.

"Tomorrow, hun. You wanna prepare everything else?"

She sighs. "You're just too hot."

"I know…" I pull her onto the couch and wrap my arms around her. "Maybe we could take a break."

She kisses me, and I tangle my hands in her hair, and we get into a very heated make-out session.

"Okay-" I manage in between kisses. "There's a whole lot...of...things...we need to..._mmm_...do."

"Buzzkill!" she declares, sitting backwards.

"Don't worry, we can do it tomorrow…" I say, grinning like crazy. "Let's work on these pizzas."

"Fine…" She gives me one last kiss before she stands up and offers me a hand. "What do we need to do?"

"I think it's easiest if we work our way through the toppings, then grate all the cheese and after that separate it all into the actual pizzas."

Dani shrugs. "Sure."

I get two knives and give one to her. "Okay, the first rule is: don't stab anything. Especially me."

"Don't annoy me, then." She winks.

"Let's start with the vegetables…" I say, wincing and pointing to the stack on the bench. She picks up a red onion.

"Okay, what is this sorcery? It's an onion...but it's purple."

"It's an onion. Technically, a red onion. You need to wash it and cut it into thin slivers."

"Um, okay." Dani sticks it under the tap, looking at me expectantly.

"That's right," I say encouragingly. "I'm going to cut up the regular onion."

"Aren't onions supposed to, like, make you cry?"

"Yep," I say, rinsing off mine.

"Great." She takes to it with her knife, slicing it down the middle.

"Oh, and you have to cut off the weird bits." I cut off the 'weird bits' on my own, demonstrating.

"'Weird bits'? Is that like 'lady parts'?" she giggles, cutting the onion into small slivers.

"Shall we find out?" I wave my onion at her.

"That is not going anywhere near my vajayjay!" she howls, waving her knife back at me. "I'm armed."

"Okay, okay! I surrender." I finish mine and slide the slices onto a plate. "So this is for the shrimp one, and those are for the…" I flick to the toppings section. "The brie and olive and the chicken cranberry...and the cheddar and bacon. Maybe you should do another."

Dani nods and slices the 'weird bits' off a second onion. "Ugh, my eyes." She dashes her arm across her cheeks. "Ugh!"

"Wash your hands," I suggest.

She does that, sighing in relief when her eyes stop watering.

"Okay, now the peppers." I toss her the yellow one and I take the red one. "These are for Rachel's veggie ones."

"How should I cut them?" she asks, digging her knife in.

"Dice them." I put my arms around her, inhaling her scent. "Like this." I show her, then put my hands on her hips as she tries.

Quinn comes in again, getting herself a glass of water.

"Hey, Quinn," I say. "What do you think about having a board game challenge tonight?"

"Like, all playing games?"

"Duh," I say, laughing. "There's Monopoly and Scrabble, right?"

"Yeah, and I've got a pack of cards, so we can play Last Card and Scum," Dani volunteers from her pepper-slicing position.

"Scum is the best!" Quinn grins. "I think Rachel has Cluedo too."

"Awesome. Blaine's coming over for dinner, so we can have teams for the board games."

"So Rachel and I are third-wheeling?"

"Um…" I glance at my girlfriend. "Pretty much."

"She can be my girlfriend," Quinn giggles. "Okay, I'll leave you guys to it."

Even Dani, with her cooking experience totaling one day so far, can't fail to cut things up, so we spend half an hour companionably slicing and dicing all the toppings.

"I'm beginning to think that we're not going to have enough room," she says, starting at the bench. Before, it was covered in whole vegetables and jars. Now, there are eight dinner plates stacked with the toppings for each pizza.

"You mean on the pizzas or in our stomachs?" I wrap my arms around her waist.

"Um... Let's go with..._both_."

"Who cares? Plus it was totally your idea..."

"Hush!" she says, swatting me. "What's next, anyway? It's like three in the afternoon, we can't exactly start making pizza."

"Good deduction," I say, sliding out of reach of her hitting me with her knife. "We're going to make the pie."

"Let me guess... That involves more slice 'n' dice," she says, rolling her eyes.

"And the gold star goes to... Dani Lovato." I do a drum roll on my thighs and laugh. "We only have to cut up the strawberries though. All the other berries go in whole."

"Ugh," she sighs. "I always thought using an implement that can kill people would be more fun." She picks up her knife again and waves it to exacerbate her point.

"Okay, okay," I laugh, grabbing her knife hand. "I'll cut up the strawberries. Can you rinse off all the other berries and put them in a pot?"

Dani laughs too. "Sure, hun. I might actually follow the recipe, too."

It only takes me a few minutes to slice off the strawberries' 'weird bits', and by that time, she has all the berries in the pot, covered with cornflour, sugar and grated lemon rind.

"Successful," I say, admiring her handiwork. "You actually don't need me." I toss the strawberries in too, give it a stir and flick on the element.

"I would have made a pie with salt instead of sugar if it wasn't for you."

"True. Maybe you need me a little bit."

"You know what we're missing?" She grins. "We need some music."

"You're right," I agree. "Where's my phone?"

"Table."

I unlock it and switch on Bluetooth, connecting it to the speakers. Then I just put on my most recent music and leave it to shuffle.

"Yay!" She puts her hands in mine, popping her hip to the beat, then starts to sing the pre-chorus. "_To ask you a question, 'cos I know that you're an old-fashioned man-"_

I join in. "_Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?_"

"_Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?" _We end up in a duet, dancing together. In the kitchen. The only way this could be more cheesy was if we were naked.

After a few good duets, and Dani having a good laughing fit because _You're My Only Shorty_ is on this playlist, we finish up the prep for the pie. She samples everything from the raw pastry as we spread it in the pie dish to every single kind of berry in the filling.

"This is orgasmic. Taste it." She swirls a finger through the mixture and offers it to me.

"Mmm. That is good. We're good," I say, high-fiving her.

"We're good."

I slide the pie into the oven and close it. "Can you set an alarm on my phone for…" I check the recipe book. "Twenty minutes?"

"Mmm-hmm."

**Dani**

Just before six, we roll out eight pizzas. "Which one first?" I ask, looking at the plates of toppings and restraining myself from tasting the cheese, because cheese is the best.

"Oh no," Santana says, sliding aside the empty jars and cans.

"What?" I turn to her.

"We didn't get the tomato paste."

"Oh. Right." I sigh. "That was smart. Does the mean we have to do a supermarket run?"

"Well, we can make the shrimp pizza without the paste because it has ranch dressing instead, so we can start and I'll go see if Rachel can do the supermarket run."

"Okay," I say, yawning and giving in to my craving for cheese.

Santana comes back a few minutes - and a lot of cheese - later. "Rachel's going now. Let's get to work."

I clap my hands and tie up my blue hair. "Our magical shrimp pizza, huh?"

"Magical," she says. "Right."

"Come here," I laugh, pulling her against me for a kiss.

"Okay, first we're gonna spread ranch on it, evenly, like this." She dips a spoon in and spreads it across the dough.

"Now the shrimp?" I ask, picking up the plate with the shrimp toppings.

"Yeah," she says. "Then the olives and then the onions."

"And the mozzarella!" I grin, sprinkling the olives and onions on.

"You're gorgeous," she says, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"Here," I say, offering her a pinch of mozzarella.

"Mmm."

We sit on the floor and watch the pizza cook. Santana puts her arm around me and kisses my forehead. "It wasn't too bad a date, was it?"

I squeeze her tight. "I loved it. And I think it's gonna get better."

"Yay," she whispers, running a hand over my ponytail and kissing my lips.

**Santana**

Dani's - our - pizzas are a success. After our minor hiccup with the whole forgetting-the-tomato-paste thing, everything works out fine. We serve four pizzas at a time and they're a huge success.

Even the shrimp isn't that bad. Unfortunately, post-pizza, everyone is pretty much too full to try the pie, and we have about three whole pizzas' worth of leftovers to fit in the fridge somehow.

Dani and I retreat to the kitchen to tidy up a little and bring out drinks. "Success," she says, in a satisfied tone.

"You think we should break out the games now?"

"Totally." She swirls a spoon through her cocktail of cranberry juice.

"Hey guys," I call, leaning on the doorframe. "Who's up for a bit of competition?"

"I'm in," Blaine offers.

"Me too," seconds Kurt.

"As long as we don't play Monopoly first, me three," Quinn says.

"I'll go get my cards." Dani puts down four drinks. "We can play Scum."

"Awesome."

I carry out another two drinks and sit down. "Everyone knows how to play?"

There's a round of 'yes's.

My girlfriend deals for the table and then someone starts the three of clubs.

After a heated argument about whether playing a two means that the play can go back down to a three, Blaine tosses down his final card and announces, "President."

He's quickly followed by Rachel, Quinn, myself, Dani and Kurt.

"I would say that since I'm gay, it's okay," Kurt explains, "but since Blaine's president, that doesn't really work."

"Another round?"

"Woo!" Blaine seconds.

Kurt plays triple threes to start and no-one can match it.

After a few more rounds, Blaine is proved to be pretty much unbeatable, so with much laughter, Dani deals Last Card.

I kick Blaine's ass at that, so after three rounds, we chuck it in and break out Monopoly.

We've been playing for about half an hour when Dani lands us on Rachel and Quinn's fully developed Boardwalk.

"Yeah, I think we're stuffed." I count out our cash - only one thousand.

"Just a bit."

Dani and I curl up on the couch to watch the end of the game.

"It was fun, wasn't it?" I whisper to her.

"It was. It's nice to be able to go on dates with you, like a normal person," she replies.

"I know, hun." I kiss her forehead. "I enjoyed it."

She just squeezes me closer, mouth opening in a giant yawn.

"Maybe we should get to bed, hun. You're still pretty tired, huh?"

She nods, smiling tiredly.


	17. Chapter 17: Muddles

**Author's note: I'm so sorry guys! I've just been snowed under with school and my girlfriend moving and everything, so...enjoy. This is a long chapter so I hope that makes up for it! I love you if you review :D**

**Dani**

I wake up before Santana, as per usual. I sit on the floor and open my laptop, checking my email. There's one from Amber.

_Since you're already in New York and all, I've made arrangements for you to go in for a radio interview. It won't be too long, and you're scheduled there at 3:30pm. _The address is included and a quick brief about what to talk about - which involves Santana. Apparently my agent thinks I should clear up the confusion about her and tell everyone.

I don't know if I want to tell the world about Santana. It's not exactly easy… There will be a lot of speculation and in general a shitstorn for a while. I don't really wanna expose her to all that.

I write a note back saying I'll order a taxi, then go downstairs for a shower.

"Morning," Quinn says. She's in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. She must have gotten up even earlier than me.

"Hey," I say, not wanting to intrude. "Good sleep?"

"Yeah, mostly. You?"

"So good. I was so fast asleep I don't think I would've noticed an elephant in stilettos."

She laughs, then looks surprised. "That was funny."

"So…?" I'm confused.

"I don't know. I just thought having Dani Lovato staying would be different," she says, spitting and rinsing. "More...unfunny. Pop-star style."

"I'm just a person," I point out. Starstruck people can annoy me, especially if they're my age, but like Santana, Quinn isn't annoying. It's not because I find her cute, because I don't look at her like that, but because she's so upfront about it.

"You're also a superstar."

"Being human comes first. You'd think that being famous would be awesome, but it's actually...kind of like a disability. Not to make light of disabilities, but people don't know how to act around me."

Quinn just shrugs again. "You seem pretty normal actually. If a little blonde."

"Blonde? My hair's blue!" I say in mock-affront.

"What are you doing today while Santana's at her dance class?" She's laughing, changing the subject.

"She has one today?" She didn't mention that to me yesterday.

"That's what she said on Monday, anyway."

"I don't know." I step forward to brush my teeth too. "I have a radio interview today. It's at three-thirty."

"I think that fits right in. Do you wanna have a shower?"

"Yeah, but I can wait, if you're, um-"

"It's fine. There we go." Quinn splashes her face with water and heads for the door.

"Thanks," I say quietly.

**Santana**

It's an obscene hour when I wake up - it's only eight or something. I feel for my phone and check the clock. Eight thirty. God, I just wanna sleep. My head is sore and I haven't even gotten vertical yet.

"Morning, gorgeous." Dani comes in, towel over arm and hair dangling wet around her shoulders.

"Hey." I open the covers for her, hoping for cuddles. Dani always makes me feel better.

"I'm okay. How's you?" She sits down and leans over to kiss me. I kiss her back, feeling wooden.

"I'm- fine," I lie. My feeling like shit doesn't have any basis, to be honest. It'll be okay. Don't want Dani thinking I'm pathetic. "Come here," I say, wrapping an arm around her stomach.

"What are we doing today?" she asks, snuggling into me.

"I have a dance class. Three til five." Which I really don't feel like going to. I just want to stay home with Dani.

"I have a radio interview. Three thirty." Oh. Never mind.

"That's good," I say. I manage to smile for her, but it feels plastic-y. I don't know what's wrong with me.

Dani smiles back, stroking my hair. "Why don't I make us some pancakes for breakfast, hun?"

"Make waffles instead," I say. Waffles are my comfort food when I'm sick. And I want comfort.

"How do you make waffles?" Dani squints at me, like I might be trying to trick her. "I had enough cooking experience to last me a lifetime yesterday."

"I'm sorry-" I swallow harshly. _No crying._ "It's just pancakes, but you put it in the waffle maker." Please, Dani, just say yes…

"Okay. You alright, my darling?" She kisses my forehead and squeezes my shoulder. "I love you. Have a shower while I make breakfast, alright?"

**Santana**

I'm just getting dressed when Dani comes in. The hot shower made me feel a little bit better. I try to avoid myself in the mirror though, because I hate everything right now.

She pumps out a handful of soap and scrubs off her hands and wrists. They're covered in gloopy mixture.

"Yum," I say, pulling on my underwear.

"Hey, you're gorgeous," Dani says. She smiles at me. I get the feeling that she knows what I'm thinking.

"Ugh," I say, pulling the skin around the birthmark on my thigh. "I hate this."

"What- Oh." Dani turns around with a towel in her hands. "It's kinda cute." She's only trying to make me feel better. It's hideous.

"Definitely not," I say. I poke it. "I hate it." With just one little sentence, I feel horrible all over again.

She blinks and then pulls me into a hug, kissing my ear. "Oh, San. You're amazing. It's just a little birthmark. I think it's beautiful."

Why doesn't she get it? I hate it when people try and press their ideas on me. "It bothers _me_, okay? It's _my_ body. Not yours!" I can hear the sharp overtone in my voice and I can feel Dani pulling away and wince. God, why can't I just shut up. "I'm sorry-"

But she's already closing the door.

I finish getting dressed, covering the mole. I'm such an idiot. I don't want to push her away, I just couldn't stop myself. I'm a bitch.

Ugh.

**Dani**

Why would Santana get mad at me? She was fine before. I didn't mean to annoy her… I was just trying to do what she did for me the other day, when she made me feel better.

There's actually tears burning at the corners of my eyes, which is totally ridiculous. I don't really want to talk to her after that… It was just kind of unfair.

It's not even that bad. One mole. She's perfect in every other way - beautiful hair, beautiful hair, just… I'm so imperfect, so stuffed up and all she can complain about is a little mole.

I'm kind of pissed off, if I'm totally honest.

The wafflemaker dings and I flip out a waffle onto a plate, then pour another in, hands shaking a little.

"Dani?" Santana's standing in the doorway, hands in front of her, hair dampened around her shoulders. She looks so vulnerable that I just want to hug her, all my immediate frustration evaporating. I don't say anything; I don't trust my voice.

We stand opposite each other for a couple of seconds before she breaks. "Hug?" she whispers.

She holds out her arms and I hug her. "You okay?" I whisper back, squeezing her tight.

I feel her shake her head against me, but no elaboration. "I'm here," I say, kissing her ear again. "I made you a waffle, if you're hungry."

She nods.

I snuggle her on the couch with a blanket and then make her breakfast. I slice up a banana and drizzle it with maple syrup and then stack bacon on top with more maple syrup.

"Here, hun." I sit down and offer it to her. "Eat. You'll feel better." I hold her against me as she eats it, bite by bite.

"Thank you," she says.

"You're welcome," I say. I can't help but forgive her for what she said before. She seems emotionally exhausted, but why is beyond me. I just want her to feel better.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I say.

**Santana**

Dani puts on a couple of movies and cleans up the kitchen. About half an hour into _LOL_, she cuddles up with me.

It's so nice. I feel better being held by Dani, and it makes me feel all fuzzy, like I'm melting into her.

She just cuddles me, kissing my hair periodically. She's so gentle - every time she moves, she asks me if I'm okay. She rubs my shoulders. She brings me juice and Tylenol.

Everything she does is just to make me feel better. I feel guilty, but it's so nice...I need it. It does make me feel better.

I turn my face away from her when I realise that I'm crying, hoping she doesn't see.

**Dani**

I think Santana had a date planned for today, but I don't even try to convince her to get up. I can see that she really needs to relax and have me look after her. I try to do it - I get her a juice and some Tylenol and get her cuddled on the couch with a bunch of chick flicks while I clean up the kitchen.

Once I'm done, I get a fluffy blanket and wrap it around both of us. "San? You wanna talk about it, hun?"

She shakes her head. "I don't really know what's wrong. I'm just all over the place."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here," I reassure her again, rubbing her shoulder.

"Thank you," she murmurs.

I keep holding her tight through the first movie. With the credits rolling, I try to remove my arm, but she's fallen asleep on it. Sleep always makes me feel better when I have mood swings. I'm not about to deprive her of that.

I shift a little bit so I'm more comfortable and rub her back while I wait for her to wake up. The repetitive movement lulls my mind into a daze and then sleep.

**Santana**

Dani and I have a mirrored rush to get out the door.

I'm not crying anymore when I wake up. I can just see the clock out of the corner of my eye. Shit, it's not actually two thirty, is it?

I get up and check again. Yep. Shit. Shit.

"Dani!" I shake her awake.

"Uhh?" She lifts a hand to her eyes and rubs them.

"It's two thirty!"

"Shit!" She stands up too, swaying a bit. "You okay, hun?"

I nearly melt right then and there. Just the fact that her first thought was if I was okay… I hug her, squeezing her to me, before she pushes me away. "Seriously, we have to get ready."

I get changed in a record two minutes and throw together a change of clothes for afterwards.

"I gotta go, sweetie, I'll see you later!" I kiss her on the lips and hug her quickly. My phone buzzes on the table as I open the door. "Fuck."

I answer it, hopping on one foot.

"Hey, _mi amor._" It's my mother.

"Hi! I'm in a hurry. Is it important?" I feel bad, but I can call her later and apologize.

"I just wanted to invite you and your girlfriend for dinner tonight. Are you busy?"

I'm so tired, but- "Sure! What time?"

"Is five-thirty okay?"

"I'll be there; Dani might be a little late though. See you, Mama!" I have to go. I turn to Dani. "My mother just invited us for dinner. It's at five-thirty. Is that okay?"

Dani nods, smiling. "I'd love that. Yeah, I might be a little late, but what's the address?"

I take a moment to remember - my childhood address is still the one imprinted in my mind, not the one of their new house in Queens. They moved here to be closer to my grandfather about two months ago. I tap it into her phone and then rush out the door, in even more of a hurry than before.

**Dani**

I am welcomed by a busy woman in a knee-length dress. She shows me to a waiting room, where I have to play Candy Crush for ages. Matt stands guard outside the glass door. It's good to see him again.

Eventually, I'm called for and I wave goodbye as I'm ushered in.

First we go through the formalities - _How are you? What's new? How are you finding New York? Tell us about your latest tour._

Then we get to the gossip-mongering. The interviewer leans forward, twirling her pen in her hands. It's presumably only a prop, because she hasn't even taken off the cap.

"So...we've heard about a new..._love interest_ on the scene."

"Really?" I say. Dani Lovato, public figure extraordinaire should be spinning a fabulous story, but Dani Lovato, girl in love, just feels uncomfortable talking about Santana. Like whatever I say is not going to be able to live up to us.

"So, can you give us some details on that?" She smiles in that mock-encouraging way.

"Well… I'm dating...Santana. She lives here in New York and I'm actually staying with her at the moment, which is really awesome."

"How long have you two been together?"

The loaded question. Santana and I have been going out, actually, for a very small period of time. It's just because we click so much that we've become so close in the space of - "Almost three weeks," I lie. It's actually been two weeks today.

"Not that long, then." I feel the judgement in her tone.

"No," I say. "She's great, though. I'm really happy."

"Tell us more about her."

I stutter, taken off-guard. I don't want to say anything more about Santana. It's just too private. "She, uh, she's a great singer. A great dancer." I want to say something about the gold digger rumours but I know that denial will raise more questions than it stops. "She's totally awesome. We've been living with her three friends and it's just great… uh… yeah. We've been going out a lot, getting to know each other. I'm loving my week in New York with her, it means we can get to know each other better."

The interviewer twirls her pen. She looks like she wants ratings, gossip, scandal, so I'm expecting a scandalous question.

"So… We've had lots of listeners calling in about annoying things that their significant others do! What's the most annoying thing Santana does?"

I'm not even exaggerating when I say that my jaw drops. Not exactly scandal material…but too private. I gather my wits. "Uh, well-" Santana biting my head off about the mole pops into my head.

But even I know that that would be a dumb thing to say on national radio, so I swallow it down and say instead, "Well, she tried to teach me to cook the other day…"

Tinny laughter from the interviewer. Her eyebrows slide down just the tiniest bit and she looks frustrated that there's nothing for her ratings, and I know that I'm not going to enjoy the rest of this interview.

I'm right. She pries about my bipolar disorder too. But after those questions, I'm free to go.

I hail a cab for the ride home. It's five-thirty, so I hope that Santana will be home already.

Home. Wherever I can be with Santana feels like home, no matter how cliched that sounds.

**Santana**

I've been at my parents' for half an hour when I figure out that Dani's not coming. It's six, and she's not here. I guess she could be caught up in the interview, but maybe she just couldn't be bothered coming.

I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, but I feel...betrayed.

I guess it doesn't matter… All Dani did was stand me up in front of my parents. It shouldn't matter, but I have to excuse myself to the bathroom to recover.

She said she'd be here. I asked her.

"I'd love that," Dani said. I gave her the address and kissed her goodbye. Did I imagine it?

I can't call her because we have a no cellphones rule when I'm catching up with my parents...I just feel sick that she ditched me.

And those aren't tears pricking at the corner of my eyes, and my hands aren't pressed over my mouth to stop myself from sobbing, and, and...

I splash my face with water - I definitely haven't been crying - and go out to eat.

**Dani**

I go to open the front door after I've waved the cab goodbye. It doesn't click. Locked. "Dammit." I knock on the door, hoping someone's home, but I have a sinking feeling that I'm alone. No one comes to the door. I knock louder. No response.

I look back, but the taxi's gone and I don't have a key.

Great. I'm stuck outside the loft. I wonder if there's a back door. I walk around the perimeter, looking for an open window. I feel like a burglar, but while a burglar might have more luck - they can probably pick locks and whatnot - I find no open windows.

Not to mention that the back door is just as locked as the front door.

I return to the front door and sit on the step. Great. I have my current novel - _The Help_, because I had to read it after I saw the movie - in my handbag and no cell reception right now.

No sign of Quinn, Rachel, Santana or Kurt, or any neighbours.

I open it to the page three-nine-two and begin reading.

**Santana**

I try to concentrate on what my parents ask me - "How's dance? Work?"

My mother goes through all the small talk, and I smile and answer how I'm supposed to.

It kills me when she asks why Dani isn't here.

"She, uh, couldn't make it. She got caught up at the thing she was at."

I see the look in her eyes and I know that now I'm going to get the talk and I don't want it, I don't want to talk about this almost-perfect thing that Dani has gone and ruined and I have to open my eyes wide and stare at the lampshade above our heads so that the tears pressing against the back of my throat don't spill over.

"Just...be careful, okay, Santana?" My mama leans forward and offers me more dumplings.

"Okay," I say, whispering to disguise the break in my voice.

**Dani**

I sit on the step for about half an hour reading. Seriously, where is everyone? Santana's class finished at five. It's approaching six, and I'm getting really weirded out having to sit here alone. I feel like I should call Matt, but then… Maybe I'm just being ridiculous.

Where are Quinn and Rachel? I guess Rachel probably has lots of things to do - _Funny Girl, _work, NYADA, but Quinn doesn't have a job or anything. And Kurt could also be at work, but honestly, why isn't _anyone _home?

I get my phone and text Rachel and Kurt, then reopen _The Help. _

I wish Santana would come home… I can imagine us snuggled up in bed with her leaning on my shoulder, reading over it. I feel this ache now that she's not here, right under my collarbone, like all I need is to have her cuddle me and tell me that everything is going to be okay, because right now I'm kinda scared.

Just a little, even though it's getting dusky and I don't like being alone outside. I'm not even supposed to be alone at all and I'm just… Yeah.

I stare at my page in the book, reading one sentence over and over to distract myself.

"Hi!" I glance up in shock, half-standing up, ready to fight, when I realise that it's just a normal couple. A guy and a girl, probably close to my age, walking hand in hand. They wave.

I wave back.  
"Are you okay?" The girl asks, pausing in their work.

I sigh. "I'm just-" I'm about to say locked out, but the girl gasps.

"Dani Lovato!"

I conceal another sigh. "Yep. Right here. What's your name?"

"I'm Sarah," she says, smiling. "You're awesome. And this is John."

"Hi guys," I say. Frankly I'm feeling a little bit sick and quite a bit tired and I just want to get inside and get a hug from my girlfriend, wherever she is.

I paste a smile on instead. _I'm a good person, I'm a good person_.

"So why are you sitting outside?" Sarah asks, sitting next to me uninvited.

"My friend that I'm living with, she's just gone out and I'm waiting for her to get back." I shouldn't say that, but John and Sarah seem nice enough. Just a regular couple on a walk.

"Right. Yeah, we caught your radio interview earlier. Santana, right?"

"Yeah. She's awesome." I'm not even lying. I grin a little just thinking about her.

"So's John," Sarah says, stepping closer to him and squeezing him. "Except sometimes he forgets to shave, right John?"

John laughs. "You get so mad, don't you? But Sarah sometimes forgets to check her phone!" He kisses her head.

They keep on listing annoying little habits until I've tuned out. They seem very in love, the way they laugh and kiss each other as they list idiosyncrasies, but it's faintly annoying. Sarah has that timbre in her voice that just makes you want to grate your fingernails down a blackboard.

"How about you, Dani?" She glances down at me.

"Oh... nothing, really. Santana is just pretty amazing. The most annoying thing about her is the fact that she complains about the mole on her thigh." I laugh.

"Oh, moles!" Sarah and John start on another segment about each other's body parts and I'm beginning to feel really nauseated by the time Rachel pulls up.

"Dani!" She hops out of the car with a canvas bag that has feather boas spilling out. "Can you unlock the door?" she asks, brushing right past the couple and dropping a key on my lap.

"Got it," I say. I smile apologetically at Sarah-and-John and unlock the door. Rachel sighs and drops the feather boas inside the door. "Do you know where Santana is?" I ask.

"I thought you guys were going to her parents' for dinner," she says, going into the bathroom.

Fuck. "Shit." Fuck.

"You forgot?"

"Yes!" I remember now. "She only told me, like, as she was running out the door."

"You're screwed," Rachel says, laughing a little from the bathroom.

"But-" I wince. Fucking hell.

"You could go over there now and say that the interview ran late."

"Good idea!" I scramble through my handbag. "Come on, come on…" It's not there. "I lost the address." I breathe out, starting to feel my throat constrict.

"You're so screwed." Rachel says this flippantly, but when she sees my face she alters her voice. "Okay, try to call her, Dani. It's going to be okay." She taps past me to the door. "Could you please leave?" She shuts the door.

I try to call Santana, but it goes straight to voicemail.

Fuck.

How can I explain myself? Excuses are stupid. I can't lie to her, but the truth is so pathetic and fateful that it's going to sound like a lie.

Rachel listens to me have a total meltdown, all sympathetic, as she makes us both omelettes for dinner.

"I can't believe I did that-"

"Dani, seriously, it's okay. Santana will understand." But I know she's only saying that to make me feel better and I know that I've fucked things up, seriously fucked them up.

I push my fists into my eye-sockets to stop more tears running down my face.

**Santana**

"Bye, Mama!" I wave to her as I run down to my car - it's drizzling lightly, so I make my excuses and leave. I escaped quickly, but not before I got the "If she doesn't deserve you, don't stay with her," talk.

I'm nearly crying by the time I slam the car door. It shouldn't matter this much. It shouldn't make me want to curl up on the couch with chocolate. It shouldn't make me want to hit my steering wheel with misguided rage.

I switch on my phone and see a single missed call from Dani. I press a hand over my mouth to stifle my sobs.

I should go home. I want to go to bed, want to forget it all. It mattered to me, that Dani meet my parents. It mattered that she cared enough to come. I don't know why, but it mattered.

I drive home, wipers flicking back and forth hypnotically. I'm on autopilot, shut down. The radio murmurs under the noise of the road. "_Say something, I'm giving up on you._"

Ugh. I slam the off button. I can't listen to that.

I miss Dani. There. I admitted it. All I want is to have her looking after me like she did this morning. I want her arms around me. I need to know that she loves me, but I can't bring myself to forgive her right now.

I pull over outside the loft and sit for a few seconds. I'm such a mess. I don't know what I'm going to say when I get inside. I guess Dani's already home, if she hasn't gone clubbing or something ridiculous- I stop that thought. She'll be there, and I'll have to deal with it. I'm just going to go straight to my room and go to sleep. She'll figure something out for her sleeping arrangements.

I lock the car and open the door of the loft. The TV's going, and I can hear canned laughter from it. I pass the lounge and see Dani, Rachel and Quinn watching what sounds like _The Big Bang Theory_.

Dani seems fine - she doesn't even seem bothered that she stood me up.

Then she sees me. She doesn't rush over, she doesn't start apologising profusely. She just stares at me. She doesn't show any emotion, but she gets up.

I'm frozen outside the lounge. So much for going straight to bed.

"I'm so sorry, Santana." Dani wraps her arms around me. I need it. Every particle of me screams for me to let myself be held by her, let her wipe away the tears.

I can't, though. I push her away without saying anything and go up to my room. At the foot of the ladder, I glance back at her. She's staring at me again, one hand over her mouth.

I cry in bed. I lose it, properly. I squeeze Demi between my hands and sob into her fur. I need someone else. I need someone to bring me tissues and hold my hand and tell me I'm okay.

I'm not okay.

**Dani**

Santana looks so...wounded when she looks back at me. All the breath is taken from my body.

I need to explain to her, make it up to her, hold her. We need to talk about this.

"Should I…" I turn back to Rachel and Quinn. Quinn nods. Rachel shakes her head.

I blink back tears and try for a smile. "I'll be back. Intact, I hope."

I grab a box of tissues from the bathroom and climb the ladder.

"San?" I can hear her crying and I can actually feel it, my heart collapsing under my breastbone.

"Go away," she whispers.

"I'm not going to," I say, sitting on her bed. "Come here."

"Don't! You ruined it, okay? That thing, it mattered-" she gulps. "It mattered a lot to me. And you just stood me up!"

I close my eyes. I did. I did fuck it all up. "San, I didn't mean to. Yeah, I fucked it up and I'm sorry, but-"

"Shut up, Dani." Santana sobs again. "I don't want to hear it. You fucked it up. I don't want to talk about it."

"I still love you," I say, feeling for her. She's clutching Demi like a lifeline and she flinches away when I brush my thumb over her hand.

"Leave me alone!" she mutters, rolling away from me. "I can't-"

I lean over and hug her to me, finding her head and leaning it against my shoulder. "Hey, San-"

She pushes me off. "Please. Don't."

I stand up. I feel guilty. "I'm just downstairs if you need me, okay?"

She sobs again and it rips at me to climb down the ladder with my toilet bag and pajamas in my hands, but I do it anyway.

**Santana**

I don't know what I expected. I'm just so confused now. Of course Dani followed me. Of course she tried to comfort me.

What I don't understand is why she left me. Even though I told her to go away, all I wanted was for her to stay, to see through my yelling and hold me tight and make everything make sense. Tell me some logical reason why she couldn't come. Tell me why I'm over-reacting.

But she didn't. I loosen my grip on Demi and push her off the bed. I'm a big girl.

I breathe deeply, trying to calm down. I'm all wrung out. I need sleep.

I need Dani.

**Dani**

I can't go back to the living room. God, I feel so terrible. I just want to lie on the floor and cry.

Instead, I put on my pajamas and splash my face with water. _We can talk in the morning. We can talk in the morning._

"So, um…" I lean on the doorframe of the living room. "Where can I sleep?"

I see the understanding in their eyes as they look up, and it does credit to them that they don't shun me, turn me away for hurting Santana.

Quinn bids us good night and Rachel makes up the sofa bed and brings me a pillow and a stuffed bear.

"Dani?" she says, on her way out of the living room.

"Yeah?"

"It'll be okay. Santana has her days. You'll be okay."

I smile and nod and hope that she understands that I can't say anything past the lump in my throat.

"Night, Dani." She flicks off the light and I pull the covers over my head, hoping that they will muffle me from everyone else.

I wish I could explain to her how much I love her. I wish she would understand that I'll do anything to make it up to her.

I just want my girlfriend back...


	18. Chapter 18: Gone

**Author's notes: The songs are _Why Am I Crying_ by Molly Sanden and _The Last Time _by Taylor Swift featuring Gary Lightbody. Enjoy! REVIEW MY LOVELIES :D**

**Dani**

I wake up to the sounds of the kettle boiling and someone crying.

Not that that's anything unusual at this point.

"I'm going for a run!" Santana yells and the front door slams.

I sit up, trying to pull myself out of sleep. My phone's buzzing, indicating an incoming call. I answer it, holding it to my ear without even checking the caller ID.

"Hey, Dani!" It's Damian.

"Hi. How are you?" Damian… Attorney. Right. I rub my eyes.

"I'm alright… How are _you?_" He has a slightly choked overtone.

"What's wrong?" I ignore the question.

"Have you seen _OK!_ today?"

"No…" Oh god. Fully awake now.

"There's an article about you and Santana."

"Bad?" I bite my lip. Is that what set off Santana?

"A bundle of roses. Quote, '_Dantana: the not-so-perfect relationship,' _unquote. They're eating it up. Amber already called me. They're trying to get you for interviews left, right and center."

We have a shipping name? Awesome…

God, Dani, focus on the important stuff. "What did it say?"

"You should read it for yourself. I've emailed you a copy of it. But there is some good news."

I sigh in relief. "Which is?"

"I tracked down the stalkers. I've got the restraining order started."

"The-" Stalkers? I'd forgotten all about that. It all comes back to me now, though. "Thank you so much, Damian." That's really good.

"You're welcome. I'll update you when the next stage comes through. Bye, Dani."

"Bye, Damian."

At least that's something to not worry about.

"Dani? I think you should see this." Quinn's holding a copy of _OK!_ magazine - presumably the same one that Damian warned me about.

"Thanks," I say as she sits down on the edge of the sofa bed.

"It's not very nice," she warns me.

"I've been warned."

She just arches her eyebrows and opens it to the right page.

_Dantana: the not-so-perfect relationship!_

_You might think that after Dani Lovato has been on the rollercoaster of bulimia, rehab and bipolar disorder, she'd want only the most supportive of relationships._

_But according to our sources, the relationship isn't as perfect as it seems! _Here there's a picture of me sitting outside the loft. The background is blurry. _Dani, alone, outside Santana's home,_ is the caption. _Apparently, the "devoted" girlfriend forgot to attend a dinner date with Santana and her parents - oopsie! Not to mention, Dani has a bugbear about the fact that Santana has a _mole!_ Not the makings of a great relationship, we say. Can the relationship really survive the pressures of long distance? An inside informer tells us that Santana accused Dani of cheating… Not to mention the unresolved question of gold digging. All we can say is "Good luck!"_

It sounds too Gossip Girl to be true, but there it is. Page five news. Shit.

"You okay?" Quinn hugs me.

"I don't know… I still don't know what to do with Santana," I say. "But I need to call my attorney back."

She looks faintly confused, but nods. "I'm going to bake some cupcakes, anyway."

I redial Damian. "Hey, Damian. Sorry. I just wanted to know if you can give me the names of the stalkers."

He sighs. "I probably shouldn't - bad protocol - but, James and Stacy. I can't give you the last names."

"It's alright. Thanks. But I think I know who the other source was."

"Other source?"

"The article cited a source for the picture, and an-" I glance over. "An 'inside informer.' There's this girl, a make up intern, who was with me when Santana said those things. I think it might be her. Serafina. Can you...research it?"

"I'll get onto it. I've got to go now, Dani. Bye."

"Bye."

_James and Stacy. _John and Sarah. It had to be them. I know there was no one else around when I was sitting on the steps, not even a car, because I looked for someone when I got locked out.

God. This is so messed up. I pinch the bridge of my nose. I wish I wasn't me, wasn't Dani Lovato.

I flop onto the bed.

"You okay, Dani?" Quinn comes down from the kitchen, holding a bowl of batter and beating it with a whisk.

"I'm not sure." I say as Quinn sits down beside me. "I actually think Santana was being pretty crazy yesterday, and I know I shouldn't think that, but… She was just all over the place, and then she was overreacting when she got home too. I know I did screw up by forgetting, and as well as not telling her about the stalkers, and talking to those people, but I just want to talk to her and work it all out, honestly."

She blinks. "Hold on… stalkers?"

Oh. "There were some magazine articles about us, quoting conversations and stuff… I asked my attorney to get a restraining order. He did, this morning. I didn't tell Santana, honestly, because I forgot. There weren't any more articles until today."

"You forget a lot of stuff," she says.

"I do." I blink. "Actually- I do."

"You do," she says quizzically.

"Yeah," I say. Actually, that is a really good point. I'm not usually forgetful. I'm going to call my psychiatrist later. I stand up quickly; I have to grab the sofa arm to steady myself from dizziness. Quinn jumps up and takes a step back.

"What's wrong?"

"Sorry. You moved fast, and all the fighting, it just puts me on edge. It's like Jack-" Her voice sounds constricted.

"Jack?" I say, voice as neutral as I can make it. I've been on the receiving end of people trying to get information out of me - in rehab, I mean, not in interviews, and I know how to sound interested but not too invested.

"My-" Quinn shakes her head. "You need to talk to Santana, Dani. Talk about _your _problems."

"She's not back yet." Quinn seems...ready.

She eyes me. "Okay. I think I'm ready to talk about him." There.

"Come here," I say, sitting against the back of the couch. She moves so she's leaning both against the couch, but not me. "Go on. When you're ready."

"Jack was my boyfriend. He was fine - at the start… He liked to gamble a bit but never much."

I hold back a sigh. Of course. Even I know how it always starts like that.

"I was doing a double degree. Medical Research and Business. I had a part-time job at a bakery. It was going okay. I was getting by. And then he lost a thousand dollars, gambling with some friends. He demanded my money. I was saving everything to pay for college. I gave him a hundred. He hit me. I kept on saying no, after that, and he just kept on hitting me. I thought it was just once, but-" She stops talking and presses her fist against her mouth. I squeeze her shoulder. Poor Quinn. The words were just a torrent out of her, like she'd almost drowned and was getting rid of the water.

"It's okay, it's okay." She buries her face in my shoulder. "You're safe now, Quinn. Safe."

She's outright crying now. I murmur sweet nothings, knowing there's nothing I can say, really.

Santana walks past the lounge with red eyes and a red face and sees us. She just looks tired.

I continue holding Quinn while I chew my lip over Santana. "Quinn? Do you want to see someone? Like a psychiatrist?"

That reminds me of Helena. I should call her tonight and see how it went.

"Can't afford it." Mental health care is expensive, but obviously it's not issue to me.

"But would you want to?"

"I guess… I'm still really fucked up. I mean, you guys can touch me now, without my freaking out - mostly thanks to Santana - but I still find it hard to go out - like, yesterday, when Kurt and I went to the grocery store. That was scary. And, just, I need to get over that because I need to get a job! And I'm addicted to baking. I'm not kidding. I'm obsessed with it. It's like a channel." She smiles a bit, dabbing at her cheeks and pointing to the bowl still on her lap.

"I can arrange a therapist, if you want." It's something I can do to help in this shitty situation, because one of the few psychological issues that I don't have firsthand experience with is abusive relationships.

"I'd like that."

We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes. "You should probably go see Santana."

"Probably," I agree, but I stick around for another few minutes, leaning against Quinn because I'm too scared to go and see Santana. After sleeping on it, I've actually realised that she acted pretty crazily yesterday - like the morning, she was getting really moody and upset, and then having this huge fit about my forgetting dinner. I mean, it was an honest mistake, although it was a shitty situation to put her in, I fully admit that, so she did overreact a little. I wonder if something else is going on with her, apart from all the stuff with us.

"Go, Dani." Quinn sits up, scrubbing at her face with her hands.

"You...going to be okay?" I start to ask her if she's okay, but then, that's obviously not the case.

"I'll wait here. If she won't listen, I might be able to convince her."

"Thanks, Quinn."

**Santana**

I ran eight kilometres and I'm puffing, but my anger's run out. I finally feel normal again. I realise that something's been niggling at me, but it's been exorcised. I'm all cried out, all ran out, all tired out.

I slam the door behind me and go up to my room. I lie on my bed for a few seconds, breathing hard. I do need to talk to Dani. I get it now. The only thing I don't get is how to ask for her forgiveness. Everything I think of is too pathetic.

Eventually I reach for my phone, going to type out a text.

There's a missed call from my mama. I send the text quickly:

Santana - _{{{{{HUGS}}}}}?_

Then I tap the redial button.

**Dani**

I'm getting dressed when my phone dings. I look over and see the message.

Santana - _{{{{{HUGS}}}}}?_

I breathe a sigh of relief. I won't be shunned when I go up to see her.

I button up the light grey and white top I'm wearing and head up to Santana's bedroom.

Wordlessly, I open the door. She's pulling on pants. "Come here, hun," I say, wrapping my arms around her.

"Oh, Dani." Santana turns around and wraps her arms around me, burying her head in my shoulder and sobs.

"San? You okay? I'm sorry, hun, really."

"My _abuelo_ is in hospital," she whispers.

My world goes blurry and then refocuses. "I got you, hun, I got you." I lead her to the bed and sit her down. "Baby, it's gonna be okay. I'll take you to the hospital."

"Thank you," she manages. I kneel in front of her and do up the buttons on her jeans, because her hands are shaking.

"Just sit down, darling." I grab a bag. "I'll get you some things, alright?" I pass her a box of tissues and get down a peacock-patterned bag. I chuck in her wallet and her ChapStick, grab some deodorant and a change of clothes, panty liners, tissues.

"Come on, hun." I put my arm around her and support her down to the kitchen. I grab two bottles of water and some granola, then run to my room and get two jackets and my own wallet.

When I get back, she's leaning her head on the counter and breathing in and out slowly.

I hold her hand, helping her up. Her face is blank.

"Where are you going?" Quinn's leaning on the counter opposite Santana and patting her back.

"My _abeulo_'s in hospital," Santana manages. I put my arm around her again.

"I hope he's okay." Quinn hugs her stiffly. "Do you need me to...come with?"

Santana shakes her head.

"It's okay," I add. "We should go."

Quinn goes back to the kitchen, waving. I lead Santana to the car and open the door for her. She sits in the seat, looking numb. I turn the key in the ignition, getting out of the park.

"Where are we going?" I hand her my phone to GPS it, give her something to do.

She taps away, and whispers, "Thank you."

**Santana**

Now I know what was wrong yesterday. I could feel it, I could feel my _abeulo_ getting sick.

Apparently, he took a turn for the worse yesterday, but asked the hospital people not to call us. He's on life support now - they called my mama. I know he's going to die, I feel it in my toes and my chest.

Dani flicks on the indicator and reaches out for my hand. She squeezes it tight, and I squeeze back. I need to feel something.

I close my eyes and focus on breathing. Need to breathe.

In, out, in, out.

**Dani**

When I find a park outside the hospital, I sit for a few seconds with the engine shut off. "San? We're here."

She stays, eyes closed for a moment. I hold my breath, wondering what I'm going to do next if she doesn't move. Suddenly she slams the car door open - luckily the space beside us is empty - and gets out. She's retching and trying to hold her hair out of her mouth with shaky hands and I jump out and go to her, pulling her hair back with one hand and rubbing her back with the other.

It takes her a few seconds of dry heaving, but she vomits everything up, until she's leaning against me, coughing and empty-stomached.

I hold her gently, stroking her forehead. No fever.

She reaches around me, arms shaking, head in my shoulder. "Hey, San, I've got you. I'm here," I say, well aware that it makes no difference.

"Can we go in now?" she says thickly. Her nose is dripping over her lip and her eyes are puffy and red.

"Let's clean you up a bit first, hmm?" I sit her on the edge of the flower bed, a good way away from where she puked, and tell her to wait.

I wrap one of my jackets around her shoulders, get her to rinse and spit with a water bottle. I wipe away the tears and mucus with some tissues until she looks vaguely presentable.

"Ready, hun?"

**Santana**

The walk to his room is the worst, seeing sick people and masked people and ordinary people crying. Dani takes care of everything for me, getting the room number and helping me into elevators and holding my hand. She turns away anyone who recognises her, which I'm selfishly grateful for.

"Do you want me to come in with you, hun?" she asks, outside The Room.

I consider. Shake my head. "Just wait...please?"

"Of course, San." She hugs me gently. "I love you."

I enter the room.

Mama and Papa are both sitting at the head of the bed. Mama holds both Abeulo's and Papa's hands.

"_Mama-_" I say, choking up.

She stands up and hugs me, still holding his hand. Her eyes are red, but dry now. I hug her back.

"What's- what's going to happen?" I get out.

Mama sits back down. _He's going to die._ The knowing intensifies.

"We're going to turn off the life support." Papa holds out a hand to me and I take it, squeezing.

"When?" I sit down, hardly aware of the floor underneath me, staring up at Mama and Papa like I did as a child.

"After you've said goodbye," he says, looking down at me. "I'm sorry, _mi hija_."

"I-" The wind is knocked out of me.

Mama and Papa leave. I know that they're giving me worried glances, but I let it slide over me.

Alone, with my dying grandfather, I stand beside the bed. I put my hands around his one. It's a soft paper map. I remember him telling me stories when I was younger, on the rare times he would drive to visit us. Usually it was in the summer, when the grass was scratchy and there was no school, ever.

"_Nieta_," he said. "You'll be an amazing person one day, you will. You'll bring joy to a lot of people."

Every time he saw me, he'd tell me that. I went through stages; when I was young, I imagined a myself as a rainbow. Eleven, twelve, Wonderwoman. Once I became a teenager, derision set in, but the talk instilled something in me. A belief, and a hope.

I say a long prayer over him, even though I'm not truly religious. It feels right to grace him in his own beliefs.

My eyes are closed when I finish. I'm crying, silent. Tears slide down my face and splash onto the bed covers. It's like a shot in a movie, when there's piano-thumping in the background, maybe a soft wailing. Slow motion shots focussing on the tear drop. I sit in the chair, heavy.

He's already gone...

It doesn't matter that his heart is still beating, the monitor still rising and falling like little Everests.

He's gone.

**Dani**

I find a chair, in the corridor, with a box of magazines beside it. It's worn down and it has questionable stains on the back, but I don't care. Poor Santana.

I suppose she must have had a close relationship to her _abuelo_. I hope he's okay. No, that's stupid. He's on life support. It's inevitable.

I wish there was something, anything I could do. Magic wand, Dani Lovato, get out of jail free card.

But there isn't. _Love is a shout into the void._

I love her, but all I can do is wait, and watch.

People scurry past constantly. Doctors with stethoscopes around their necks. Nurses in scrubs, clipboards, vials in their hands. Small children, dressed in dirty clothes, clean clothes, hospital gowns. Adults, some in wheelchairs, some crying, some in shock, some in hospital attire.

I stare at my hands, counting seconds by the tap tap tap of shoes.

The lights don't change, faintly flickering fluorescent over the grey tile.

"Dani?" I finally hear her voice, calling me, shaky. She's a few metres away, looking pale.

"I'm here," I say, reaching for her. She collapses in my arms, breathing heavy.

"He's gone, Dani." Santana can only whisper.

"Oh, darling. I'm so sorry." I sigh, knowing that I'm still helpless to her. I hold her tight, stroking her hair. "Come sit down."

I kiss her forehead as I help her sit down. "He's gone, Dani. He…" She chokes, paler than before. Is this a repeat of outside?

Turns out she's crying, hand pressed to her mouth. "I didn't think I could cry any more," she whispers.

"Do you wanna go home?" I ask her. Her mother and father aren't anywhere to be seen - I assume, anyway. I don't know them. The least I can do is take her home, get her settled.

"Please," she says. "I want to sleep and forget it all."

"Okay, hun." She holds out a hand.

She's pulling at my heart as I'm pulling her by the hand.

I take her to the car. She's shaking, shivering.

The elevator wait is interminable. She leans on me on the way down. She flinches at the ding. She squints at the sunlight outside.

Once I've gotten her into the car, limbs limp, I unwrap a granola bar. "You need to eat. Here."

She clutches it.

I drive.

**Santana**

A granola bar.

I hold it in numbed fingers.

The sounds of New York are louder than usual in my ears. A horn honk is always going through my mind, always something ticking, ticking away time.

"Is there anything you need?" Dani asks me.

I shake my head.

"Eat, hun."

I lift the bar to my mouth. My teeth slide through the granola. It doesn't taste of anything, but my mouth fills with saliva. I guess I need sugar.

I finish it and let the wrapper fall to the floor.

Dani pulls into the loft. Shuts off the engine. She opens my door for me and offers me a hand. I take it.

It's starting to filter back. I have a life - a good one. I have a family. I have a girlfriend.

I had an _abuelo._

"Here, I'll get you some trackies. Sit down." Somehow I've ended up inside, sitting on my bed. I flop down, pulling a pillow over and holding it between my legs.

She comes over, trackies and singlet in hand. "Hey hun, sit up?"

I oblige. She pulls off my pants and my top gently. This is not how it went the last time that she was taking off my clothing, but she doesn't even joke about it. Her hands are soft against my skin. "You wanna talk about it?" she says, voice kind.

"No," I say. I wriggle my hips so that she can get the trackies over them.

"I'm here, hun." She keeps repeating that, but I know it, already. Dani puts her arm around me, makes me her little spoon. I snuggle back into her. I'm glad she's here to help me hold it together, because I don't know if I could handle it alone.

**Dani**

Santana sleeps. I'm glad of it. Her body relaxes, limb by limb, into me.

When she's snoring softly, I sit up. She doesn't twitch a muscle.

I drop a kiss on her forehead and go downstairs. I'm going to sort out that therapist for Quinn, so that I don't have to worry about it for the rest of the week. I would also call Helena, but she won't have been yet.

It doesn't take me very long to find a suitable person - I first go on Google Maps, then call my therapist's office to find a recommendation. I do the first bit quietly in Santana's room, wanting to be close to her if she needs me, but she stays fast asleep, so I decide it's safe to go downstairs.

"Quinn?" She's not in the kitchen anymore. "Quinn?" I knock on her bedroom door.

"Hey, Dani. Come in. Is Santana okay?"

"She's sleeping. Her grandfather died." I make that sympathetic face that people make.

"Oh. I'm so sorry." Quinn imitates me. It's all so fake...

"But I found you someone. Here's the name, address, phone number and appointment time. Don't worry about the money. Just go along. You can take Rachel or someone if you need to."

"Seriously, Dani, thank you. I appreciate it so much." She looks down at the bed. "I think I need it."

"You're welcome. I'm glad I can help."

Quinn nods, biting her lip. Things are about to get awkward. "Would you like a cupcake?" she bursts out.

"No, but thanks." Not in the mood for sugar.

"Okay," she says. "Watch a movie?"

"Sure."

I go to the bathroom and Quinn goes to the lounge. When I come out, she's in the kitchen, making a cup of tea. She's humming a song.

"_I don't need your love notes to cheer me up; I can live without that kind of stuff. You don't have to wake me with a kiss every day... I'm tired of roses anyway."_

"What's the song?" I ask, filling a glass with water.

"Oh… _Why Am I Crying._ I wrote it."

Hold up. "Wait, you wrote and composed a melody for that?" I turn around.

"Yeah…" Quizzical.

"That's amazing."

"Thanks."

Amber's been looking for a new songwriter for me… I wonder. "How many songs have you written?"

"Oh, loads. I've been doing it since high school."

"Do you think you could do it for a living?"

"You mean, be a professional songwriter?" She arches her eyebrows.

"Yeah." I don't want to promise anything but I'm pretty sure that she could be The One.

"I would love that… why?"

"I think I can get you a job. I'll call my manager."

"Seriously?" She leans forward.

"Seriously. We've been looking for a new songwriter."

"Oh my gosh…" she says, blinking.

"Oh my gosh," I repeat contentedly.

**Santana**

I wake up. Everything's fine, right? So why do I feel this crushing weight in my chest-

Oh. My _abuelo_. I remember.

I roll over and scrub at my eyes. I must have been asleep for hours - I'm heavy with tension but also with sleep.

Words and phrases crash through my head almost instantly. It's lyrics, pressing to get out. _This is the last time I'm asking you this… All roads, they lead me here…_

I grab my journal from the bedside table and scribble. I just need to get this out of my head. I need to get this onto paper.

I scribble out the words until I have eight lines. A chorus. A verse. A bridge.

_Found myself at your door,_

_Just like all those times before._

_I'm not sure how I got there,_

_All roads they lead me here._

_I imagine you are home..._

_In your room, all alone._

_And you open your eyes into mine,_

_And everything feels better._

I push the journal away from me like it's radioactive and squeeze my eyes shut. I will not cry again. I will not cry again.

The burning feeling is squished to the back of my mind. I open my eyes to see Dani in front of me.

"Hun? You okay?" she says, sounding like it's projected through tinny speakers. _Stay in the moment, Santana._

I nod for her.

"I made you some lunch," she says.

"Not hungry," I say. Not a lie. The food looks as appetizing as a pillowcase, or a set of drawers. It's just another prop of my life.

"You need to eat," she insists, so I reach out and put a piece of sandwich in my mouth. Doesn't really taste of anything, but I keep eating until I see Dani's shoulders relax.

"Thanks," I say. I'm saying it for Dani.

"Anything I can do?" she asks, putting the plate on the dresser and pushing her thumbs into my shoulders. The release of tension is almost painful but matyring too.

"No," I say. "I'd better call Mama and Papa."

"Okay. I'm here if you need me, hun."

I get my phone, dimly aware that Dani leaves to give me some privacy.

I dial Mama's cell phone.

"Santana., _mija._" Her voice is flat, where usually it's bright.

"Mama…"

"How are you?" I know she's really asking about my _abuelo._

How can I respond to that? "You?"

"Fine, _mija._ We're organising the funeral."

"Can I help?" I don't want to.

"It's fine. It's on Sunday, _mija._ Ten o'clock." She rattles off an address.

I nod numbly. "Okay."

"Bye, _mija_." My mother hangs up without giving me the chance to farewell her.

The funeral. That hadn't even crossed my mind. I guess I have to take Dani.

Yeah, there definitely could have been a better way for her to meet my parents.

**Dani**

Santana stumbles over to me. My feet are curled up under me on the couch and I'm sketching on a piece of paper. I should be getting down words for a song, but I'm all dried out.

She snuggles up to me, pushing her head under my arm. "Okay, hun?" I check.

"Funeral's on Sunday."

"Oh, babycakes. Do you want me to come?"

She nods and snuggles closer.

"Do you need a dress?" I ask, knowing that I will do, at any rate.

"I…" she sniffles and wraps her arms around my stomach.

"Yeah? I can go get you one, because I need one. Or we can go together, whatever you want, San."

"Together. Can we go tomorrow, please? I...don't want to do anything else today."

"Hey, it's okay. Tomorrow, we'll go, alright?" I kiss her forehead, being the ever-forgiving friend she needs right now.

The stuff from yesterday is still swirling around me, weighing me down. I've shoved it all to the side, so that I can help Santana through this, but we'll have to clear it up later.

"Thanks."

I squeeze her gently. "Do you wanna watch a movie or something? I don't know, it just might take your mind off-"

Santana places a finger on my lips, smiling a little bit. "Movie's good."

I put on a fluffy comedy that I know doesn't have any dying in it,

"I'm just going to run and get a blanket, okay?" I drop the remote on the sofa beside her. She needs the same TLC I gave her yesterday, is what I'm thinking.

Scooping the duvet up, I knock a book to the floor. I grab it, and I'll admit, I'm a bit curious, but more… my eyes just can't help but read it.

It seems to be lyrics… there's scribbles and working on one page, but the finished product is really good.

_Found myself at your door,_

_Just like all those times before._

_I'm not sure how I got there,_

_All roads they lead me here._

_I imagine you are home..._

_In your room, all alone._

_And you open your eyes into mine,_

_And everything feels better._

Shit. I flick back. It's Santana's journal. She's a great lyricist too, different from Quinn but great. If she'd told me… I would have referred her for the new songwriter position instead. I'm unashamed to admit that to myself.

But I've already practically guaranteed it to Quinn. I sigh and put the journal back on the bed. I'll think about it later. Here and now, for Santana, right.

She's started the movie, and I cover her with the blanket.

"It's gonna be okay," I murmur.


End file.
